Gilded
by 30026401
Summary: -"covered with a thin layer of gold; having a pleasing or showy appearance that covers something of little worth." Nalene, the privileged daughter of merchant in Dale, is surviving on pure luck, and she's not even sure it's the good kind. Eventual Smaug/ OC
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I've been really taken with the Smaug stories I've read, so when I saw how few there were I decided it was time to write my own. Please review, they inspire me to update faster! I'm open to plot suggestions as well.**

It was a warm day in Dale, the summer in mid-swing with a soft breeze sweeping through the entire city. It was in the wealthy district of the city that a young woman was walking beside her father. An armored guard trailed behind them, providing the protection the aging father no longer could. Nor did he need to, not when he was Benrir, the richest merchant in all of Dale, and entirely capable of buying whatever he didn't have.

As the pair meandered the streets the girl tugged her father's arm. "Do you know the date today, father?"

Benrir replied easily, "the 2nd."

The girl hummed, tapping a finger on her chin. "The 2nd? Oh my. I have lost track of the days again." There was a smile hidden in her tone.

He smiled back, familiar with the game she was trying to play. "Have you really, Nalene? Or perhaps there's something you intend to ask of me? Remind me of a certain occasion?"

"Well, now that you mention it…" Nalene trailed, pretending to think hard. "I just remembered a special date this month. On the 26th."

Beautiful, his daughter might be, but lucky for him she completely lacked any sense of subtlety. He'd be dead before she ever managed to successfully lie.

"The 26th?" He feigned confusion before nodding solemnly a moment later. "Quite right, dear. I have an important appointment that day. How kind of you to remind me."

"What?" her playful tone turned indignant. She immediately stopped walking, tugging her father's sleeve. "Father! How could you forget!"

"Ah-" He wondered if his teasing was ill-timed, but it was too late now.

"My birthday!" she wailed, seeming to wilt as she stood. "Your own daughter's birthday! It happens every year!"

A few faces in the crowd turned towards them then, curious about the sudden outburst. Benrir nodded good-naturedly at any who met his eye, unruffled by his daughter's evident distress. He was used to Nalene's talent for the dramatic.

He patted the hand on his arm placatingly. "I was just teasing," he assured, gently pulling her into a walk again.

Almost immediately the tears dried in her eyes, and her anger all but melted away. "Oh?" she perked up. "So you've started planning then?"

"Planning? No, not yet." Benrir ignored his daughter's upset frown. "If you have some idea's you'd like to share with me, however…"

Her eyes lit up, as he'd expected. "Well, you know last month Crisara had this fabulous ball. It was the ultimate event. People still talk about it, you know."

"Do they."

"They do! Just the other day Lady Rena was telling me that her niece met her fiance there. Isn't that romantic?"

"Quite." Benrir scanned the nearing store fronts, looking for the familiar sign. It was right around this square, if his memory wasn't failing him.

Nalene prattled on, oblivious. "Well, as wonderful as that is, and of course I'm very happy for Crisara, to finally have something nice happen for her," Nalene's voice lowered to a conspiratory level, "you remember what that horrible boy did to her- breaking her heart like that."

A flash of red and gold caught his eye. There it was!

Benrir held up a hand, waving his guard forward. "Utterly despicable," he agreed mildly, only half remembering the old scandal that'd overtaken the city. It'd been the same old story, a boy and girl falling in love with poor consequences. He was lucky his daughter was sensible enough not to fall prey to that sort of thing. He lead his daughter beneath the store archway.

"You know I never saw what she liked about him," she continued. "I told her right from the start, 'Crisara, you could do so much better than him' but I'm afraid she was too blinded by love for him to see what was quite clear to me."

"Indeed. But you'll need to tell me the rest of this tragic story later, because we've arrived," he said, stopping below the store's sign. Nalene finally seemed to catch onto her surroundings, catching sight of the tailor's shop with wide eyes. "I have business to attend to," he continued as Nalene took in the storefront, which showcased shimmering gowns and fine lace. "I thought you might like to pick out a new gown, for whatever festivities you're scheming of."

Nalene bounced on the soles of her feet, beaming. "Really?"

"Yes, and Berund will accompany you." The guard from before came to stand at his side.

Nalene didn't miss a beat- guards had been following behind her for as long as she could remember. But as her father was turning to leave, she suddenly remembered her point from earlier.

"Wait! I never got to tell you-"

He turned around with chastising look. "Nalene, I should be going. You can tell me later," he promised.

"But this is important," she hurried. "I'll be quick. I just wanted to tell you that I know what I want for my birthday- it's just I _need _to have to most memorable party, father. Seventeen is a very special age isn't it?"

"Every birthday of your's is special," he agreed cautiously, remembering his earlier words.

"So it's not too much to ask for then," she continued eagerly. "See, I was thinking, a way to make my birthday the best ever... if _I_ arrived wearing the jewels of a royal. Some wonderful old queen or princess from long ago. That would be magnificent wouldn't it?" She smiled up at him hopefully.

"Royal jewels?" He paused with a frown, "where did this come from?"

"Weren't you listening?" she cried, clasping her hands together. "How am I to compete with Crisara's ball without them? I need them, I wouldn't ask if I didn't!"

"Need them?" he repeatedly sceptically. It was an expensive gift she begged for. But then again he couldn't have expected less. He himself had been born into wealth, he'd married into wealth, and he'd raised his children into wealth. Was it such a surprise then, that his daughter would beg for a queen's jewels?

"For my birthday," she pleaded. "Didn't you agree it was a very special day? Besides, could you imagine- me, in a queen or princess' jewelry?"

Her wide-eyed hope was what broke his reservations. "Very well," he conceded. Nalene squealed in delight. "You'll have your jewels." After all, what evil could a few gemstones bring?

He turned from his daughter's smiling face to his guard's. He gave his parting words of, "Bring her home before dark, Berund," and left his grinning daughter behind.

It took Benrir almost a week to purchase her present. Erebor had been the obvious place to find suitable jewelry, but even there it would be no common task to obtain the jewel's of some past royal, dead or not.

He had to call upon old friends, all while wearing his best, with his eldest son accompanying him, to charm his way to an audience with King Thror. He'd heard of the wealth of Erebor, and had traded with them for decades, but even now the halls of the mountain kingdom awed him. Like everyone, he'd heard the rumours of the vast chambers filled with treasure, and King Thror's covetousness had not been exaggerated. Only with his immense offering price, sweetest words, and humblest attitude had he been able to walk away with any of the King's jewels.

The fine gold and gems were nested into a well-wrapped package, worth a price even he would pause at. They were for his only daughter though, and he had promised. He intentionally brought with him extra guards. To carry such exquisite treasures without the increased protection would have been an irresistible taunt to the gods.

He hadn't been home long before his daughter came bounding down from her room. "Back already?" she greeted. But her focus wasn't on him. She peered behind him, towards his bags, looking for a package that hadn't been there when he left.

"Business went well," he said, tutting at her expectant expression. He shook his head. "It's a birthday gift," he reminded her. "And you won't get them a day before."

She pouted and pleaded with him after that. He had to shoo her away from his bags. She did as she was told, but for the next few days she spoke to him curtly, and came up with excuses to avoid their usual afternoon walks.

Her brothers, who came and went from the house, noticed as well, and made efforts to tease her. "Princess Nalene," was heard a dozen times a day, much to the girl's growing annoyance. "The only queen without her crown jewels," her eldest brother lamented one morning.

But when Nalene wasn't bearing the brunt of her brother's teasing, she was gloating to her friends.

"I'm not sure who they belonged to," she sighed one day in the marketplace when a friend, Lara, asked. "It's a part of the surprise, I suppose. He won't even let me see them. I have no idea how I will coordinate them with my gowns. What if I can't get them to match?"

The other girl frowned sympathetically. The two girls had planned an outing for the day, and they were blessfully left to themselves for the day- the guards a few feet back hardly counted as company, even if they unfortunately had to walk a little closer in these parts of the city, where certain undesirables would also be wandering.

"If they're royal they probably match with everything," her friend said, browsing through the silk stand. The merchant was boasting about the quality of his goods, pointing out his finest wares. "Queens and princesses would of had more gowns than even you, Nalene."

"I suppose," Nalene stood next to Lara, uninterested in the merchants slogans, still distracted by her jewelry woes. She scrunched her nose at the merchant, who was still blathering on. He'd obviously noted their clothing and was trying to land a pricey sale.

"Perhaps the beautiful young lady would like a new gown, to match these jewels you speak of…" he suggested, waving a hand over a nice blue shade. "This one was traded from the farthest corners of the Haradrim desert-"

"I already have that color," she interrupted. She turned towards Lara, cutting the merchant's reply off. "Are you ready to continue?"

"I was thinking about the scarf stall-" Nalene was saying as she swiveled around. But she hadn't been paying attention to the crowd that has grown around her, and turned right into the chest of someone else.

For a second she was embarrassed and about to utter out an apology. Then she noticed how close the man had been standing, and he still refused to stand aside. "Excuse me…" she began, trepidation growing. He swept his eyes over her appraisingly, and Nalene tensed beneath his cold gaze.

Behind her Lara suddenly spoke up, a warning in her voice. "Do I need to call the guards, Nal?"

Her threat had the intended effect. The man stepped back quickly and his eyes flickered around warily. He must have caught sight of the guards, who stood not too far away and ready to intervene, because he hunched his shoulders.

"Apologies," he said, not sounding apologetic at all. With a quick dip of his head he retreated into the crowd. Nalene breathed a sigh of relief, and Lara stepped closer, standing on her toes to watch him flee.

"That was odd."

"No manners at all," Nalene agreed, trying to shake off her discomfort. How long had he been standing there? "Now about those scarves?"

By the end of the day the girls had visited most of the stalls and found things they liked. Nalene admired her new trinkets greatly, but her run in with the stranger had ruined her day. For the rest of the outing she'd felt watched, and more than once she wondered if she'd seen the man again, lurking behind her.

But her guards were never too far behind, and she knew her father only paid for the best. Besides, with the dull way most of the poor people dressed, it was hard to differentiate between one or the other. She was probably being silly.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: things will be picking up in this chapter and the next. Sorry, still no Smaug this chapter... but we're almost there...**

After weeks of preparation the day of the party had arrived. The cooks had been furiously preparing for the past few days, the servants had scrubbed every crevice and swept away every speck of dust, the guards had been lectured on the importance of the evening, and Nalene had impatiently waited for the unveiling of her gift.

She knew she would receive many other presents, all beautiful and worth her gratitude, but she also knew that none would compare to her jewels. She'd grown up on tales of princes and princesses and finally she could be one, just for the day.

As she made her way through the halls she giggled in delight. Finally! Would they be gold, silver, or filled with shining gems? Was it a matching set? Would she finally have a nice ring to wear with her teal dress?

She all but skipped into the main rooms, dress swishing between her quick steps. She was barely through the doorway when she caught sight of her father- or rather what was in his hands- before she rushed forward.

Benrir presented her the jewelry box, eyes crinkling at his daughter's giddy jumping. She couldn't contain her excitement and took the box.

She opened the lid and-

Nalene gasped and ran a finger over the smooth links, reveling in the intricate carvings. The gold swirled around the gems so finely that she wouldn't believe it could ever have been crafted by some dwarf or man.

"It's beautiful." Her eyes were alight with awe. Her father laughed at her dazed expression.

They were certainly gorgeous, but Benrir hadn't forgotten the hefty pound of gold he'd paid with. He had little doubt he would ever regret his purchase, not with how happy it obviously made Nalene. When he noticed her still staring at them he suggested, "Why don't you put it on."

She blinked, his words had pulled from her bedazzled stupor. "Of course," she laughed. Thankful she'd already done her hair and it was out of the way, she slipped it around her neck. The latch was so tiny it took her a few tries before it clicked closed, but then the necklace finally rested against her clavicle.

She peered down at it, having a hard time looking away from it for too long.

"They belonged to a Gondorian princess centuries ago. I wasn't told her name, but it's said the princess was killed, and over time the necklace made it's way back to the kingdom of Erebor, where it was originally created. From there it remained, until one girl came pleading to her father for a certain gift." He raised an eyebrow at his daughter with mock severity. "And her fool of a father paid a great sum for it."

Nalene nodded quickly, schooling her face into a solemn expression that poorly concealed her inner excitement. "I am very grateful, father. I will take good care of it. I- I'll polish it every night! I'll never let it get scratched or- or tarnished!"

Seeing her earnest face, Benrir stifled his laugh, and clamped a hand on her shoulder. "I know you will take good care of it, but… perhaps you shouldn't polish it. I'm afraid that would ruin the setting and finish."

Nalene's eyes widened, and for a second she looked embarrassed. Of course she wouldn't polish it, she mentally berated herself. What would everyone think of her if she somehow managed to ruin a gift this precious?

But Benrir took pity and shooed her away. "Go, go. I know you'll be careful with it. You have guests to prepare for, don't you?"

By the time the party was in full-swing Nalene had shown off her new necklace to anyone who would listen. It was her pride and joy for the night. Every time she would feel it's weight on her chest she would beam, and raise a hand up to touch it- hardly believing it was hers.

Nalene raised her chin to give the jewels the best display as she excused herself from her friends. She didn't remember the exact number of invitations she'd sent out but her home- one of the largest around- was bursting with guests. For the past few hours she played hostess, passing through the crowd and extending her greeting to everyone- and she hadn't spoken to even half of them yet.

Within a few minutes she'd reached a part of the house where the crowd had thinned, and by the time she reached the gardens she only passed the occasional couple who had also wanted to escape the crowd.

As she passed a particularly passionate couple- only vaguely recognizing one of them- she giggled and hurried past their embracing forms.

She chose to sit at her usual spot in the gardens, and allowed herself to enjoy her moment's peace. The party had continued on into the night, and for hours she'd greatly enjoyed the company of her guests. So far the party had been a great success- everyone adored her necklace.

Nalene was certain her birthday party would be most eventful thing to happen to Dale for quite a while.

Her only warning was a sudden brush of wind against her neck, she didn't hear their approach, didn't notice the silence that'd fallen over the garden, and when one hand dug into her hair and the other wrapped around her mouth she was too shocked to struggle. Her muffled shrieks were barely audible as she was dragged back so quickly she nearly tripped over her own feet, her back pressed against someone's chest.

Her eyes widened when another man stepped out in front of her. He was dressed finely, clearly a guest in her home- but she'd never seen him before. He advanced on her quickly, closing the short distance between them in a matter of seconds. Her throat constricted in terror- she doubted she would've been able to scream even if the hand was removed from her lips. Her attempts at backing away only pushed her further into the back of the first man, causing the second one to chuckle lowly.

"Shh," he whispered, a frightful smile on his face as he raised a single finger to his lips. "Imagine our luck," he continued, his voice deceptively soft, "catching the princess without her train of maids."

His hands slithered around her neck like a clamp, and Nalene could hardly hear the man's words over the pounding in her chest.

"...will the King do?" he was saying, eyes glinting. The hands around her neck tightened, and to her mortification the man leaned in closer, squashing her between the chests of both men. There was hot breath wafting against her cheek, but she couldn't tell who it belonged to. "You're nearly as tempting as those gems around your neck," the one in front hissed, one hand straying towards the center gem, then a little lower-

A distant peal of laughter suddenly broke the night air, and the man behind her tensed. Hope lurched in Nalene- other's were nearby, she could be saved! "Enough," the chest on her back vibrated. "This has already taken too long. We should be gone by now."

The one in front stepped back, hands falling to her shoulders, grip loosening slightly as he glanced to both sides for the sound of the laugh.

Something prickled in the back of her mind, a memory…

"Oh they're long gone," he sounded unconcerned. His eyes turned back towards Nalene. "Besides, the princess was kind enough to choose the most secluded part of the garden for us, I don't want to waste the opportunity." His eyes slide up her body, and Nalene knew things were about to go from bad to worse.

"I'm a thief, not a rapist," the one behind her snapped coldly. "Grab the necklace and let's go."

"Fine, fine, nothing wrong with some fun."

Nalene was so relieved by the first words that the last part hardly registered with her. The hands were back around her neck. It wasn't till they tugged the necklace around to reach the clasp that she understood what was happening.

Her present! She didn't know whether to just let them have it or not. Her promise to her father rang in her ears, assuring him she'd take care of it. How could she let him down, just hours after receiving it? And she didn't want to lose it, it'd already become her favorite possession.

But the alternative was hardly any better. One of them might have claimed he wasn't a rapist but that didn't exclude murder.

Nalene didn't want to die for a necklace, not even for _this _necklace.

The one in front was having trouble undoing the clasp, though. She remembered it had even taken her a few tries, and this man's hands were twice the size of hers, too big to handle the delicate clasp.

"What's taking so long," the one behind her demanded.

"Damn thing won't open," the other growled, growing more frustrated by the second.

His fingers had just slipped from the clasp again when the tense silence was broken by another laugh, this one much closer than the last. Both men froze, then the hands on the necklace became hurried.

"Hurry!"

"Shut up!"

The man's eyes hardened and he changed tactics. Wrapping a hand around the chain he put another to her chest, holding her in place, and _yanked. _Her neck snapped forward, the chain biting into her skin, the other hand still in her hair tearing at her roots- she was certain she was about to snap in two, tears forming in her eyes- but then the hand let go and she lurched back, her head bouncing against a chest.

She was so dazed she hardly caught what happened next.

"Fuckin' dwarven smiths!" she heard someone snarl. Did she hear footsteps? "It won't come off!" Then, "She's seen my face, we can't leave her!"

The hands from behind released her so suddenly that she flailed forward, not realizing how much they'd been holding her up. Before she could think to scream or run something came slamming into her skull, and she tumbled forward, falling into a pair of arms before her eyes closed.

* * *

><p>Waking up on the horse was rather confusing. It didn't register with her at first, the jolting rhythm of the horse's steps, the pebbles and grass of the ground blurring before she could get a clear view of it.<p>

Then she caught sight of the men and realized she'd been kidnapped. She was sprawled across the lap of one of the men, and honestly it didn't matter to her which lap she was in, she'd prefer neither. Nalene knew they still hadn't managed to remove her necklace because it was bounced against her face every time the horse hit the ground the right way.

She groaned, loud and long. How could this happen to her? Where had the guards been? How long had it been? It couldn't have been that long, because it was still dark out and from the corner of her eyes she thought she might see the silhouette of the city against the night sky.

Although the rider said nothing she knew he'd noticed her awaken because one of his hands fell to her back, alarmingly low on her back. Maybe the action was meant to steady her, because she wasn't swaying around quite so dangerously now, but the heat of his hand through her dress sent her heart racing.

She closed her eyes and prayed she wasn't lying on the thighs of the one who condoned rape.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thank you for the reviews! I'm glad that Nalene isn't coming across as a total brat, and I completely agree, what fun is a Smaug story without the dragon himself?**

* * *

><p>Chapter Three:<p>

Nalene was loathe to speak to her captors, but she'd already put this off too long. The rough movements of the horse was only worsening it. Neither man had given any indication they intended to stop soon- they probably wanted to get as far from the city as they could. Her father had to have noticed her absence by now. People had to be looking for her.

Nonetheless, if they didn't stop she would be pee right in this man's lap, and with a threat like that she was sure she could persuade them to stop.

But how was she even supposed to address them? They hadn't given her any names, and it wasn't like she came into contact with scoundrels like this often. These people had stolen her from her home, intended to steal from her, and possibly kill her later… she refused to call them sir like she would with any other strangers.

She cleared her throat, arching her neck to look back at the rider. "Excuse me?"

The man blinked down at her, apparently surprised she'd spoken. She _had_ been rather quiet since she'd woken on the horse. It became evident quickly that arguing or fighting was pointless. It would only anger them, and then who knew what violent or cruel things they'd do. Nalene shuddered. No, no sense in potentially making it worse. It wasn't as if she was capable of outrunning them all the way back to Dale.

Her plan had been to stay so quiet they would hopefully forget about her.

"Can we stop?" She gave her best smile, and she was impressed with herself for a moment. Last thing she wanted to do was smile at these men. But hearing her words the man's face hardened, and he looked ready to immediately refuse. She finished quickly, "I have to, you know…"

One brow arched.

"Pee," she supplied. "I have to pee, right now." Saying it outright made her flush. It was hardly proper to admit these things to stranger- but, she soured a little, thieves like these probably didn't care. No sense of decorum between these two.

She was met with a blank stare from the man, until finally he huffed, and the horse slowed to a more forgiving gait. "Rich!" he called in the other's direction, "We're stopping."

Without waiting for a response the rider lifted her off the saddle.

The landing was rough, jarring her knees, and Nalene was scowling at the ground when the man dismounted, snatching up his horse's reins. Those were probably stolen too.

"Well, get to it," he told her brusquely.

She gaped at him, shocked by his tone. He sneered. There was nothing else around for her to hide behind. They didn't really expect her to just relieve herself right in front of them, did they? She searched her surroundings, discomfort growing.

There! She let out a breath, relieved. Clunkily lifting her bound hands she gestured towards the distant boulder. "Is over there okay?"

"What's the hold up?" It was the other who'd spoken, Rich. He still sat in his saddle, impatiently looking between the two of them. "Are you an idiot, Cal? We need to keep moving. Get her back on the horse."

"Girl says she has to piss." Nalene received a suspicious once over, and she frowned. Who did they think she was? Some vagabond like them, who would lie and deceive without a conscious?

Faced with two angry men glaring at her, Nalene hunched her shoulders, shifting her legs again. "I do. It won't take long."

"I'm not getting peed on by some girl-" the one she rode with started.

"Fine," Rich snapped, jerking his horse back a few steps. He turned to Nalene. "You got two minutes, you hear?"

Nalene was used to fine tiles, sweet smelling soaps, and gentle cloths. Peeing in the wilderness was something she never wanted to do ever again. Having her hands tied together only made it worse. Feeling miserable, she trudged back towards her captors. They were a couple dozen paces away, and she could see the towers of Dale in the distance, jutting into the blue sky.

Making a run for it flashed through her mind, and she thought of all the adventure stories she'd read before. As she returned to the two, Rich still in his saddle, also watching Dale- his expression wary- she remembered all the hero's and heroine's from the stories.

She nodded stiffly at the rider, and with a grunt he lifted her into the saddle. If this was like the stories she would have been rescued by now. The man clamored into the saddle behind her, and she tried keeping her expression neutral at the invasion of her personal space.

Or she would have at least made a heroic escape attempt by now…

Was she going to die?

"Do you feel that?"

It was the one called Rich who spoke. She tried to place him from the night before. Which one had held her from behind and which had gone for the necklace?

"Feel what?"

But Nalene felt it, the sudden rolling wave of dry air and heat. Their horse sidestepped nervously, ears prickling.

"That," the other supplied vaguely, a concerned frown on his face.

"I don't feel anything," the one behind her shrugged.

"I don't like it."

Something about his expression drew her attention, and Nalene found herself inspecting her captor a little closer. She narrowed her eyes, something about him was familiar. As she watched him glance over both shoulders it hit her.

"You-" she breathed, catching the attention of both men. "You're that one from the market," she exclaimed. "You were eavesdropping! That's how you knew about my necklace!"

The men shared a look. "Partially," one admitted.

Nalene wanted to feel furious. She wanted to spit at them, make them shake in their boots. Instead this revelation only made her more dejected. She'd sensed something was wrong, but done nothing, like some idiot. To know that she could have prevented this and didn't had her flustered and disappointed. Now she just wanted to be alone, to wallow.

"Not very quick, are-"

The rest of his words were lost in a bone-shaking roar. There was a moment of complete stillness between the three of them, then Nalene snapped her head around to the noise, searching the area with baffled dread. Another roar echoed the first, followed by a heavy thumping in their air, like a giant beating out their laundry.

Then she saw it.

It was huge, even from a distance where only the biggest buildings of Dale were still visible. All three of them watched in mute horror as it soared closer and closer, circling over Dale like vulture. Nalene had never seen anything like it. Nobody had, not in years. But books and stories had kept the tales alive.

Then fire was lighting up in the sky, exploding down on the bustling, now burning, city.

"Those aren't supposed…" she trailed off, thunderstruck by the sight before her. _Those aren't supposed to exist anymore. _Nobody had seen one in centuries, not around here.

The sound of horse hooves pounding distracted her for a second as she watched dumbly as Rich forced his horse into a gallop, running from the fire, and not looking back for his partner.

"Shit!" the rider behind her cursed, yanking at his horse's reins. This horse couldn't keep up with the other rider's though, and within a minute they had fallen behind drastically. Her captor was swearing fluently, composing partial sentences made entirely of words her father would have fainted to hear her utter.

Nalene sympathized. There was nothing like a shared threat to make the captor and prisoner bond. She risked a glance behind her and what she saw was both horrific and stunning. She could nearly smell the ash. It was all fire, more fire than she'd ever seen.

The horse was huffing beneath them, forced into an instinctual gallop that put it's earlier pace to shame, but even Nalene could tell that her horse was going significantly slower than the other, who was so far away now that the horse and rider blurred into one dark, fleeing form.

Her captor wasn't swearing anymore, she realized.

His hands were on her waist then. She didn't have time to protest because they were gone as quickly as they appeared. She figured it was because she was already so overwhelmed that the sensation of falling didn't register. Then her skull slammed into the ground.

Dazed, she didn't make a sound besides initial grunt on impact.

She couldn't find her breath, something- everything- ached. The vibrations in the ground faded as the distance between her and the horse increased. She'd been pushed out of the saddle, she understood then- thrown off to lighten the load. Life took precedence over expensive necklaces apparently.

When she sat up and had the sense to look around Dale was still burning, and her eyes trailed behind the dark spot looming in the sky as it swept over Dale again and again.

She lost sight it after it's attacked Erebor, but it wasn't long before it appeared again, soaring in her direction. It flew right over her position sprawled in the grass and rock, spraying fire as it went. Nalene hardly even moved out of the way.

Nalene wasn't sure how much time passed after that. When the dragon had faded into a smaller splotch on the sky, chasing or circling who knew what, she pulled herself off the ground. The fire had missed her, mercifully, and the nearest patch of it was a safe distance away, a group of trees.

Her attention turned towards Dale. She could scarcely believe her luck. How easily she could have been inside that burning city. Instead she'd been saved by some thieves. Turns out her bad luck wasn't so bad after all.

But her father, her brothers, her friends… she felt like crying. They must all be dead now. Tears welled up in her eyes.

What was she supposed to do now?

* * *

><p>The dragon's return was no surprise. It was just like the first time, the dry air, the bellows and roars, then she could actually see the massive form in the sky. She hadn't moved far since his first flight over here, she'd put some distance between her and the growing fire and settled down. She'd thought about running, but at the moment there was nowhere to go.<p>

Back to Dale? Erebor?

She would wait for the fires to die. Then she would return to Dale, and see what- who- had survived. Her father and brother's traveled often for business, all the way to Gondor sometimes, but she had never been far from the city. She'd never wanted to leave, and she'd never had to.

So when the dragon came back she hunkered down and waited for it to pass. She silently willed it leave her be and return to it's wrung her hands in her lap, head ducked, trying to hide at least partially in a bush.

After a moment she looked up again- and gasped.

It was circling low over the bush. It was closer now, and she could clearly see the copper and rust colored scales, the claws and spikes. Oh Gods... she cringed. Nalene wasn't overly devout, her father had instilled on her that good things happened to those who worked hard, not to those who begged the gods for help, but now, with a dragon overhead, she was praying to every god she'd ever heard mentioned.

Gulping, she ran a hand over her dress. It was ruined now, torn and soiled and dirty. Her hand slid towards her chest, meant to comfort her. Instead her fingers bumped into her necklace. She blinked in surprise, peering down at the forgotten ornament. For the past month she'd dreamed of it. Now it felt the same as the rest of her jewelry.

A vibration through the ground made her look up, and she couldn't stop the scream that tore through her shock. There was an eye watching her from above the bush, just feet away.

"What have we here," a voice thundered, and Nalene watched in horror as the eye and it's body slunk back until it's massive form blocked out the sky above here. "A Gondorian? So far from it's walls and towers-" suddenly it's head was looming feet over the ground breathing smoke beneath it. "Come out from your bush, little Gondorian! Before I burn it!" the dragon bellowed, "I know what I see!"

She shrank back in terror, but there was no denying this dragon. She pulled herself to her feet, emerging from the bush.

Heat wafted down from the dragon, and it's head swept down until suddenly it was beside her. Nalene gasped, stumbling back at the sudden motion. Her heart pounded in her chest, afraid but too mesmerized by it's eyes to look away. They put any gem she'd ever seen to shame- a kaleidoscope of copper and red.

"Aldamacil's descendant then," it affirmed. A low growl rumbled out of it's throat, what she surmised might have been a satisfied hum.

The dragon was making no sense. Gondor? Aldamacil? Nalene didn't dare ask.

"You thought you could hide from _me_? I could smell your fear from miles away, hear your puny little heart racing…"

She was feeling a little faint.

"I'm surprised it hasn't burst already," it goaded cruelly. "Furiously pumping blood into your fragile little body." The dragon inspected her, as if waiting for her heart to burst right then. Nalene stood stock still, fingers twisted in the layers of her dress, knuckles white.

As if sensing that her heart would not give out quite yet it continued. "It would be easier to kill you," it confessed, "… but even Gondorian royalty has it's appeals." At her expression he chuckled, a deep, throaty grumble. "You thought I would not recognize your pendant?" it bragged, sounding both scornful and pleased. "My memory surpasses yours by thousands of years! Dragons do not forget. Not even mediocre jewelry coiled around little necks."

Her necklace? Her brows pushed together. Was it talking about...hadn't her father said the necklace was a Gondrian princess'? Then it hit her: the dragon was mistaking her another princess.

She didn't expect the choked laugh that escaped her throat. How ironic.

"You dare laugh at me?" It hissed, suddenly enraged, it's lips twisting into a snarl and eyes twitching over her small form in disbelief. It's chest started glowing a disconcerting hue of red, and Nalene paled considerably, her neck aching as she craned it to look up at him, seeking to backtrack- and quick.

"No!" she squeaked, finally finding her voice, even if it did quiver. "I wouldn't- there's nothing laughable about you_, _big dragon."

"Big?" Nalene released a ragged breath of relief when it sounded more amused than furious. "Big," it repeated, as it tasting the inadequate description. "I am not big. I am Smaug! Titan of the skies! I am more than _big_."

"Of course!" she sputtered with a fervent shake of her head. "I just meant to-" she searched for words desperately. "-to... show comparison between your mighty form and my frail one."

Smaug snorted, and with it came a burst of smoke. "I have heard better lies from rocks!" He eyed her contemplatively for a few thick moments. "Very well," he abruptly said, answering a question only he knew. "You are lucky that I'm curious."

She had no time to question him, not that she would have dared, not after his bout of anger moments before.

Then, in one swift movement, Smaug lunged, and claws enclosed around her.


	4. Chapter 4

**An: this chapter gave me some trouble, and I'm only somewhat happy with how it turned out. Let me know what you think. Thank you for all follows, favs and/ or reviews!**

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><p>Chapter Four:<p>

He descended into the mountain through what was once the front-door of the mountain kingdom and once inside he brought them into a main chamber.

She was dropped then, and a small grunt escaped her when she hit the ground. Seconds later Smaug's looming form disappeared from her line of sight. As she sat up, rubbing her abused back with a grimace, she could hear the distance crashes of Smaug making his way out of the mountain.

He was leaving?

Why kidnap her if he was only going to leave, Nalene wondered with a furrowed brow. And where else did he have to go? She'd assumed his rampage was done.

She'd been under the impression she'd be bound or caged, or at least watched carefully. Physically, there was nothing to prevent her from leaving. She turned towards the path Smaug had come in from. Rubble and ash cluttered the way, but the hall she could see looked navigable.

Hope surging, she pulled herself to her feet, and advanced towards the pathway. For a few moments she felt giddy. How stupid of Smaug, had he forgotten she could walk on her own two feet? She wanted to laugh in his face- finally she had a chance to-

-to what? Suddenly doubtful, Nalene hesitated. Dale was gone, her family was gone, everyone unfortunate enough to be in the city was gone. The nearest city or haven would be at least days away. With no food, no water, no horse and not to mention little clue which direction to even head in, leaving seemed even more idiotic that staying.

Besides, now that she thought about it, she got a sense that Smaug was not so stupid as to leave her alone unless he was completely confident.

She shook her head and turned away from the entrance. Of course, it made sense now. His casual- no, _nonexistent_- dismissal of her told meant the exactly that. It didn't bode well, the confidence he had concerning her.

Why threaten a girl, Smaug must have known, when she had no chance of escape. And what had he said earlier? He could smell her fear from miles away?

With a sigh, she accepted that she might be staying here a while.

"Here" looked exactly how she would expect a ransacked kingdom to look. She could see shadows of distance fires yet to die out, and a majority of the supports had been crushed during Smaug's invasion. But worst was the stench. It was heavy and inescapable, and some part of her recognized it immediately. Burnt flesh. Nalene didn't even want to consider how many had died in Smaug's attack, but the smell told her the number was heartbreaking.

What was it the legends said? Dragon covet gold above all else? If so, Nalene understood why he chose Erebor.

Gold was piled up in mounds like sand dunes of riches, more wealth that she'd ever seen- than anyone could ever have seen, surely. It made her nearly forget the dragon, and that was a feat worthy of her respect. This is what the Dwarven King had possessed? Never in all her life would she imagined this sort of wealth rested just miles from her home in the Lonely Mountain. She had heard the stories of Erebor's wealth, but this... Nalene had grown up in wealth, but what she'd known was nothing compared to this.

What did Smaug want with a Gondorian princess? Nalene nibbled her thumbnail. What would she do when he discovered she wasn't what she thought? She bet the daughter of a merchant was of no interest to Smaug.

He'd said he was curious, but about what?

Afraid of moving too far and losing herself in the sea of gold, Nalene found the nearest column. She settled against it and prepared to wait.

It was not long before the pillager himself returned. There was no missing it, not with the dead silence that resided in Erebor now. Besides, Smaug was too huge in maneuver the mountain unheard, like an giant amongst children's toys. He couldn't move in the mountain without creating a noticeable racket.

She was leaning against the column when he returned, and he spotted her immediately.

"Ah, yes. You."

She flinched back, eyes unable decide what to watch, his talons? His teeth? His wings?

He regarded her for a moment- inspecting his plunder, she thought inwardly. She felt like her father's goods during inspection. He made no pretense of doing anything else either, and she was pinned beneath his forward gaze. Wrapped around the column as she was reminded Nalene of the witches burned on the stake. Would he change his mind and eat her now?

Nalene wouldn't consider herself especially talented at reading someone's expressions but with a dragon it was nearly impossible. She hadn't the faintest hint at what he was thinking when he spoke.

"You do not resemble your ancestors," he announced, his eyes narrowing. "I remember you differently."

Her eyebrows pinched together. "I-"

"Humans," he spat. "Populous as flies, and twice as irritating. They have always been insignificant, but you... you look especially puny."

Nalene was average sized, maybe somewhat closer to the shorter end of the spectrum. Growing up she had always been the shortest in the house. Of course, anyone would be dwarfed besides Smaug.

"I am as tall as I will ever be," she tried, unsure what he wished to hear.

He sniffed imperiously, obviously unimpressed, but all Nalene could remember was what he'd said before. _I could smell your fear miles away... _No doubt he smelt it now as well. There would be no hiding from Smaug in here.

"Then you have shrunk in the past millennium," he retorted, eyeing her distastefully. Nalene gathered he was referring to the human race in general again. "Isn't your Numenorean blood supposed to keep you _big _and _strong." _

The Numenoreans- Nalene had heard the stories of the ancient people who founded Gondor, but she only knew the basics, and that had been so long ago. By now it was rare to find anyone with a trace of that blood in them.

It's...diluted by now... O Intimidating Smaug..?"

"You do not sound so sure."

She cleared her throat nervously, eyes flickering up to him for a second. "I have never given it much thought, Most Impressive Smaug."

"And what were you doing cowering in the plains? Very far from Gondor, aren't you." He still sounded suspicious, but she could also detect a layer of curiosity. At least she hoped that's what it was.

"Umm, because..."

He waited.

"Because I was kidnapped. Two thieves after my necklace. Maybe you," she gave a weak shrug, eyes on the ground again, "maybe you saw them, on horseback, when you... flew over," when _you flew over and set fire to everything, including them probably. _

He let out a long breath, and lowered himself onto the gold, head propped up as his keen eyes narrowed at her. "And why would two thieves take the whole princess, and not just her necklace?" He asked slowly, eyeing her like he couldn't decide whether or not to believe her.

Before he had loomed over her in a blatant display of intimidation, but now his head was almost level with hers. It was slightly better, but Nalene didn't undestand why he would relax all of the sudden. Either way, the words flowed from her mouth a little easier now.

"They found me in the gardens during my party." Her face screwed up as she recalled the bad memory. "They wanted my necklace, they'd found out-" _found out it belonged to a princess once, _she almost said "-...they found out how much it would be worth, but their hands were too big, too clumsy, and they couldn't get it off. I think," her voice fell to a whisper, "I think they were going to kill me, and then take the necklace. One way or the other..."

It was nice to share her story with someone, even him. As she finished a heavy silence occupied the space with Nalene contemplating her earlier circumstances and the dragon watching the concern and fear flash over her expressive face.

Smaug broke the silence with a dry tone. "It did not occur to you to simply remove it yourself?"

Nalene blinked, mind clearing. "I guess I didn't think of that..."

He made some sort of rumble in the back of his throat, more annoyed than angry. "Of course you didn't," he concluded, looking down at her with a vaguely disgusted expression.

Slightly insulted, Nalene's back straightened. No manners! Dragon or not, hadn't he heard of common courtesy? "I was under a lot of stress," she defended. "They attacked me, one was going to... to- it was terrifying."

She watched as something in Smaug's eyes hardened, and for a thick, tense moment he stared at her. As the silence continued on Nalene had a growing sense of foreboding, and she was unable to hold Smaug's intense glare for long.

"Terrifying." He hissed spitefully, rising to his full height. "Those two little thieves I scorched scared you? They are _nothing_ compared to me. They are not terrifying, I am!" His claws dug into the gold beneath him as he seethed. "Would you like to see terrifying? To feel your bones ache?"

She jumped at the fierce display and scrambled behind the column. He snapped, growling, and swerved around the column, pining her against the the stone with his furious glare.

"You impudent girl! Insolent! If princesses weren't rare to find I would kill you now," he snarled, snapping his jaws with restrained rage.

Baffled by his sudden outburst, Nalene could only stare in muted horror.

"You would insult _me? _I have burned the people of Dale, I have torched the plains and forests! The mountain is dead! Dale is dead!"

"Please-"

"I will not be swayed by _begging," _he spat.

"I didn't mean it like that," she pleaded frantically, "You... you are far more impressive than them! Much bigger, stronger, and smarter!"

That seemed to pacify him a little because he stopped snarling.

"The most impressive," she continued, swallowing her hurt. "Destroying Dale was a very...stunning feat, only the best could do that. And taking Erebor, look at all your treasure!"

There was a low growl in his throat, but Smaug moved back. Nalene's heartbeat was finally returning to reasonable levels when his attention returned to her, but thankfully the rage was gone from him. "Flattery will get you nowhere," he warned her, sounding resentful.

She accepted his threat with a quick nod but did not take it to heart. It was unnerving, how mercurial his moods seemed. His ego ruled him, and she would not forget it. Backing away, she found another column a safer distance from where he was settling down.

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><p>With it's cold glinting treasures, vast echoing chambers, lifeless halls, and shadowed, unlit corners it would make sense for Erebor to be cold. A tomb, a massive, burnt tomb is what she'd imagined. But she hadn't taken Smaug into account. The dragon gave off heat like the sun, warming the entire mountain till only the farthest reaches were frigid. Sleeping directly on the coins gave her horrible bruises and aches, but at least she was never cold.<p>

She missed her soft bed, her maids, her home.

The day before while Smaug slept she found a source of water deeper in the halls, in what may have been a kitchen. Sadly there had been no food, only charred, indistinguishable lumps.

It had been nearly three days since she'd eaten, but she hadn't found the courage to face Smaug. She wasn't even sure he intended to feed her at all. Maybe he wouldn't care that her stomach ached, that she already felt a little weaker.

Smaug was sleeping again. He'd submerged himself into the coins somewhere a bit off to the left, and once again Nalene was left to her own devices. He had been rather disinterested in her after the initial day. Now he seemed content to treat her the same was he did the rest of his treasure. When he was awake- something that had been rare the past two days- he hardly deemed it worthwhile to talk to her- it was like he'd forgotten this particular treasure was alive and breathing.

Nalene kept away from the coins he was nestled into as she walked. She went over the mounds of coins carefully, not wanting to risk disturbing the dragon. She picked her way to one of the ramps leading up the raised walkways. On the first day she had caught sight of the elevated pathways, snaking along the walls and high above the sea of wealth. Some of them were destroyed, but a fair portion still stood. It was relaxing to Nalene, being so high above the rest of it. From the walkways she could clearly see all the way to the far wall, and it was nice knowing she had no chance of stepping on Smaug up there. Nalene imagined stepping on him would be similar to stepping on a snake- practically asking to get bitten.

Hanging her legs over the edge of the walkway- the dwarves evidently did not believe in railings- she brushed pieces of hair from her face. She stared at the gold beneath her despondently. Her chin started quivering. Steadying herself with a deep breath, she sniffed and reached for her necklace.

Her fingers traced over the designs as they slid behind her neck to the latch. It took her four tries to finally get it off, and then she couldn't decide whether the absence of weight on her neck was unnerving or soothing.

Now that she'd seen all Smaug's treasure the beauty of it was lessened, and she couldn't bring herself to see what had enchanted her so much before.

Lips twitching, she held her gift out over the edge. She stared at it, remembering the two leering thieves pulling at the necklace still around her neck. She was tempted to drop it. Finding it again in the sea of gold would be nearly impossible.

Then she remembered how she'd begged for it, and how pleased she'd been when her father had finally given it to her.

She pulled it back, and returned it to it's place around her neck.

Besides, she reminded herself sullenly, Smaug would notice, and how would she explain herself then?


	5. Chapter 5

**this chapter took me a little longer than the others but I'm happy with it. Please Review!**

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><p>Chapter Five:<p>

Nalene woke up drenched in sweat. She had dreamed of the fires over Dale, and the dragon's heat searing through the mountain had only made her dream more tangible.

She didn't get up right away. If she had been at home right then she would be sleeping in fine sheets, with feather pillows beneath her and the bedroom windows open to let in the summer breeze. She knew she'd never experience that again, no matter how much she wished. Nalene had to think in the now- now she was the dragon's, now she was living on a lie she had no idea how to bluff her way through.

Afraid to think on it any longer, lest she turn into a crying lump, she got up. Her first action was to scan the area for Smaug. Then, with no indication he was lurking nearby, below or above gold, Nalene allowed herself to relax.

The growing pain in her stomach begged for her attention but there was nothing she could do yet. Instead she focused on soothing her thirst, and made her way to the well. The kitchen where the well stood was a small enough room at the end of a narrow hallway; Smaug couldn't reach her down there. But as she went she couldn't help wondering. Where _was_ Smaug? He left and arrived without warning, never offering an explanation, and it probably didn't even cross his mind to give her one. Nalene was half-certain Smaug had forgotten he wasn't the only one living under the mountain. It made her curious how long Smaug had been alone.

Dragons lived long lives. Nalene couldn't imagine going so long without another person around. It was a little sad.

Nalene frowned, annoyed by her easy sympathy. Sad? As if. He was a murderer. An unfeeling monster! He'd ruined her life, tossing it up in literal flames. She wasn't going to cry because he was too atrocious for anybody to suffer his presence.

Except her, evidently, but she wasn't going to be any companion of his. It was, after all, in her interest that her interactions with Smaug were kept at the minimum. Every time they talked her life ended up getting threatened, one way or another. He'd shown her nothing but cruelty and indifference and she didn't expect that would ever change. No comfort, no food...

By the Valar, did she miss her cooks, her soft bed, her baths... right now she could have been enjoying her breakfast with sweet jams at the table, which was in fact a family heirloom. Nalene's lips twitched into a smile, it was undoubtedly a pile of ash now, but she could remember it clearly. As a little girl she'd collided with the table head on and gotten a hideous bruise on her forehead. She'd sobbed for hours.

Nalene regarded the well before her without enthusiasm. How things had changed. No food to speak of and a lone well for water. She retrieved her usual cup, an lonely tin thing so unlike the finery she had grown up with, and began the usual task of pulling up the water. She hoped it hadn't gone bad. Could water go bad? It felt like a silly idea, but she'd never fetched her own water from a well before. She'd had maids for this- or had the footman done it?

Only an actual princess could be more unprepared for this than her.

"What I would give..." she sighed mournfully as she lugged the bucket over the side. Grunting at the weight of if- nobody ever told her water could be so heavy- she dragged it across to one of the few still standing counter tops. Setting it down she rubbed her tender shoulders. Four days and she'd been subjected to more menial labor than she could remember.

She pursed her lips as she stared indignantly at the bucket. This was how Smaug treated a "princess?" She scoffed. And how would she be treated as a merchant's daughter? The richest merchant in Dale, but still a merchant.

She sobered, scowl dropping from her face. She knew exactly how the merchant's daughter would be treated. He'd already told her, hadn't he? She'd be dead.

Nalene was still realizing how important her lie was. Then again, she'd never actually claimed to be a princess, so it was more of an omission. Valar help her if Smaug found out the truth. She needed to be slick, to learn to lie smoothly. He could hear her heartbeat, smell her fear-

Nalene felt a growing wave of hopelessness. Her own father had named her the worst liar in Dale- how was she going to outwit Smaug?

Perhaps avoidance would keep her alive, she considered as she sipped the water. He could hardly catch her lies if he never had reason to tell them.

She had other problems too. The water did nothing to lessen the ache in her stomach. It was hardly bearable at this point. She had planned to avoid it as long as she could, but Valar, she was having trouble focusing on anything else now. Nalene wanted an entire feast of food for herself, all five courses.

When she finished drinking she set the cup aside and began the trek back into the main chamber. She tried keeping quiet but it wasn't easily done. Noises tended to echo and Nalene wasn't the most adept at navigating the ruins without tripping over something or knocking priceless jewels over.

Walking through the archway into the man chamber, Nalene froze midstep.

Smaug had returned.

He was perched above her on a stone outcrop, watching her. Uncertain, Nalene hesitated under his intense study. His stare was piercing, and she couldn't discern whether he was upset with her or feeling apathetic was usual. When he showed no intention of otherwise acknowledging her she plowed forward, holding her head down, self- conscious under his blatant watching as she made her way back to her usual column.

"Exploring?"

Nalene stumbled over a sizable chalice in her fright. The collision rang out in the quiet chamber, bouncing off the walls as she sat there, mortified. She risked glancing towards him as she pulled herself off the ground, wincing as more gold coins and other assorted treasures clattered to the ground. Her hands stung.

Smaug didn't give a reaction to her stumble, but inwardly she thought there might have been a flicker of something in his eyes. She didn't know what, annoyance perhaps, but for a second she thought he might have looked... less indifferent.

"I was getting water," she answered truthfully. She could only hold his gaze for a moment before her attention moved to her hands. She turned them over, her chin quivering as she took in the bloody gashes on each palm. Of course this would happen to her, she thought miserably. Maybe next time she'd fall and break her neck too.

"Fascinating..."

Then his gaze turned towards the bloodied treasure beside her, and again she thought his blank expression might have faltered for a second.

Nalene knew he could smell the blood on her hands, but he wouldn't care. A part of her wanted to scream, but most of her wanted to cry. Her hands were bleeding- undoubtedly going to scar too- and nobody cared. Her family and friends were dead, her cuts stung, and she was stuck with a dragon who was too cruel and high-handed to concern himself with a human's scratched palms.

"Yes," she agreed sullenly, trying to compose herself as she stared at the trickle of blood running down her forearms.

"You've gotten blood everywhere," he replied in a conversational tone. She was surprised he wasn't angry. Then again he was probably used to the sight of blood.

"Yes."

He assessed her silently, and Nalene started to think that was the end of their curt interaction.

But then he spoke again. "It's custom to apologize when you make a mess of someone's home," he prompted, still perched above her like a king above a peasant. She certainty felt like a peasant- nothing like the princess she was pretending to be.

Nalene tensed, eyes sliding over to where he waiting for her answer. What did he want with an apology? She was bleeding, and he didn't even care. She nibbled the inside of her cheek, contemplating her answer.

"But this is my home too," she challenged recklessly. There, see what he made of that. The bravery required to say it was already fading, and once again she was drawn to her oozing palms.

At the shriek of claws on stone her head shot up, but Smaug was not attacking. In fact, for the first time since the conversation had begun, he actually looked intrigued. Two large claws were scratching over the stone ledge, and it reminded her vaguely of a cat kneading at a blanket, a rather disturbing comparison in Nalene's opinion.

"You haven't been using your titles," he said in an strange tone.

She stared at him with pinched eyebrows, not understanding.

He seemed to be contemplating something as he stared down at her. After a few confusing moments he gave what might have been the dragon equivalent of a shrug, but he didn't look away.

It struck Nalene that this might be an opportune moment to mention the lack of food. But then she remembered her hurting palms and his indifference, and rejected the possibility. She wasn't going to ask if the answer would clearly be no. Well, he might help her, if he wanted his captive princess to last long, but still...

She wanted to be furious at him, to scare him with her anger, to punish him for killing her family, but she'd never been especially intimidating and the reality of her situation was becoming clearer by the second. She was dependent on Smaug's good will to stay alive, and she was afraid if she showed any strong emotion she'd end up crying in front of him.

She wondered if he could hear her stomach when it rumbled, but was cruel enough to make her beg for help. He would probably like that.

"You're dripping," he suddenly said.

"Does that bother you, O Most Impressive?"

One lip curled up, revealing his teeth. "Obviously," he snapped.

She was considering the benefits of tearing into the hem of her dress for bandages. As irritating as his bland observation had been, it did reminder her that she needed to stop the bleeding and clean herself up.

"Apologies."

Then, afraid he'd truly become angry, and feeling as though she'd failed her plan of avoidance enough for one day, she nodded so deeply she was nearly bowing, and turned away. Cradling one bloody hand in the other, she slowly made her way back to her usual spot, careful not to lose her balance and fall over again.

Leaning against her column she inspected her gown. It was a beautiful creation of swirling silvers and blues. It was the one her father had surprised her with on their walk, and it had been tailored especially for her. She'd looked lovely in it, the dress she'd hoped would compete with her jewels. The day of her party she'd eagerly put it on, and when the party was underway she'd giddily accepted the compliments her guests gave her. She sniffed pitifully, wiping her nose with the backside of her hand. Then her night had been ruined.

Her nose tingled, and when she brought her hand up to touch it she found blood on her fingers.

She groaned beneath her breath, frustrated. Was there blood on her nose or had her fingers already been like this? She couldn't just walk around with blood on her face- but she couldn't wipe it off!

She groaned again, glaring down at her useless hands; she needed to wipe her face but she couldn't, she wanted to clench her hands into fists, but she couldn't do that either, and now there was blood on her face and trying to fix it would only make it worse and she _couldn't do anything._

Her throat closed up and she blinked back tears. It wasn't fair! She sniffed again, and this time she grabbed a handful of her dress- hand protesting at the use- and wiped her face with her gift. When she let go there were two red blotches ruining it.

It was ruined, she thought pathetically, just like her life.

By now she was blatantly crying, and she made little effort to stop herself as she tried to figure out which part of her dress would make the best bandages. She hadn't wanted to rip it, but there was no reason not to now.

She tested the material down by the hem. Then by her sleeves, and finally by the hem a second time. It would not tear. Through her tears she smiled at the irony of it. Of course it wouldn't tear. It was made by the finest tailor in Dale, with the most expensive materials. Her father would buy nothing less.

Her undergarments then. Not caring if Smaug was still around she pulled back the dress, exposing the airy, thinner cloth beneath. That would do.

Wincing at the pounding in her palms, she grabbed the material and tugged. It made a poor bandage, she thought as she inspected her work wrapped around her hands, but it was better than nothing. Smaug wouldn't have reason to complain about dripping blood for a while at least.

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><p>It must have been hours later, when the bandages were seeped with blood and she was even hungrier, that Smaug spoke again. He was sprawled in his gold again, and she'd thought he was sleeping as she stared at her hands and willed them to heal quickly.<p>

"You never told me your name," he said, the question implied.

Nalene glanced his way, where he had one eye open as he waited. It felt like too normal a question, or maybe too personal. Normally she would have already answered, but this was coming from him. She wanted to refuse him. It'd been days, why did he want her name now? He hadn't cared for her name when he'd whisked her away from the burning fields and dumped her into his plundered home. But there was no way around answering.

"Nalene."

"Nalene," he tried the name, and in his voice it sounded completely unfamiliar. "Hardly a royal name."

She stiffened. "Maybe not," _definitely not,_ but she needed to navigate this conversation carefully, "but it is my name... We can't all be 'Aldamacil.'" Technically, there had been no lies. And thankfully Smaug didn't appear to detect her deception. He hummed, although it came out as more of a growl deep in his throat, and his eye closed.

She watched his huge torso rise and fall with each breath. He was lying close enough to her that she could physically feel the heat radiating off him as he slept. With the silence broken only by his steady breathing, Nalene suddenly felt a range of emotions: sad, angry, lonely, confused.

He was completely at ease but she felt frayed and fragile. _Hardly a royal name, _he'd said, but this was hardly fair.


	6. Chapter 6

**authors note: This is the longest chapter yet, and I took a bit of artistic license with it, but for the story to really progress it would eventually be necessary. Please review!**

Chapter Six:

There was no way of knowing the time of day. Maybe she could measure time by the intervals at which Smaug slept, but it was unlikely the dragon did anything on a reliable schedule. He didn't seem the type to be ruled by basic needs like sleep or hunger. In truth, there was no true reason for Nalene to need to know the time of day. Her days were empty of responsibilities. Nothing demanded her attention besides her dry throat, curling stomach, and dropping eyelids. Being able to measure time only appealed to her because it would be settling, it would be a fragment of how her life used to be.

Smaug was sleeping again. She tiptoed around him. He hadn't woken since she'd shared her name, and that had to have been at least a day ago. While she appreciated the tentative peace that filled her as Smaug slept, a part of her also wished he would wake on his own volition and spare her from doing it herself. She was torn- was it better to starve in safety or risk waking the slumbering tyrant?

But she was so hungry. How stupid had she been to pretend she could last without food. Already she felt weak and tired. Even more distressing, her bones protruded from her skin in the worst ways. This sort of condition couldn't be good for her skin. Valar forbid there be any lasting effects. Still, she was hopeful. If, for whatever reason it ended up being, she got food, Nalene still believed she could regain the weight she'd lost.

Vain, yes, she had always been, but how could one not cherish their appearance when they looked like she did? Besides, she was a princess now wasn't she, and who was more vain than them?

Starvation would be a wretched death, even she, who never before had hungered for more than a few hours, knew this. For obvious reasons beyond her beauty, she never wanted to go that way. Childishly, she would prefer she never have to 'go' but she knew better now. Nalene had learned a thing or two in the past days. Including how heavily all people relied on food. Nalene wouldn't wait any longer. Before she had clung to pieces of her pride and pretended she could live on the water. A fool in denial, she inwardly swore. Now it felt as though her insides were chewing themselves up. She was so hungry.

"So hungry," she complained aloud, clutching her grumbling stomach. The gold around her was worthless if she couldn't have any food. Worthless. How long could Smaug go between meals, Nalene wanted to know. Much longer than her, she'd bet.

Famished and irritated, she hovered beside a massive wing. The proximity had her on edge, like standing on a cliff, it brought forth an alertness she was unused to. The heat on her face was almost uncomfortable. He was sprawled out, not an inch of defensiveness in his position. She spent her nights curled into a ball, fearful and uncomfortable, but he was stretched out, a massive wall of gold and red scales, all perfectly grooved together. He was no less intimidating in his unconscious state, but in a way when he looked more like a massive, simple-minded animal than the cunning creature she knew he was. At a first glance Smaug looked like a dumb, but dangerous beast. First impressions were famously incorrect, though- Nalene would not underestimate his intelligence.

Most people she knew hated to be disturbed in their sleep, herself included. How would a dragon react?

She reached out to poke him but held back at the last second, considering. Nothing had happened to her when he'd carried her in his claws the first day they'd met, but scales were different from claws. How wise would it be to touch him without knowing the potential consequences. She'd heard of toads and other vermin with poisonous skin. Who knew what lay in a dragon's. It would not be wise at all, she surmised, eyeing the scales skeptically.

But she did not retract her hand. Instead she steeled her nerves. She was hungry. Too hungry.

The scales felt like stones heated by the midday sun, and her whole palm covered just a single scale. The heat soaked right through her makeshift bandages, making the torn skin tingle. Not wholly unpleasant.

With a deep breath she pushed.

Smaug didn't move.

It'd admittedly been a feeble shove, and when her hand didn't burst into flames she risked a second stronger push. Again, nothing happened. In her unease a discomforting idea came to her. Then, a faint sense of astonishment filling her, she gave a third, a fourth, and a fifth shove, each one stronger than the last. Not believing it- with her luck, her misfortune, was it good if he was dead?- she scrambled to where his head rested, coiled up near his tail.

Immediately, her face fell. He was very much alive; warm air still escaped his nostrils rhythmically. Feeling incredibly silly, she took the moment to study him.

Nobody, Nalene thought, could ever honestly call Smaug unimpressive. Her guard down- it was apparent he would not wake easily- she leaned forward, face scrunching in her examination. To her wonder she noticed each scale had small curves to it. Like fingerprints, Nalene thought as she followed the contours of his face. The ridges surrounding Smaug's eyes curved smoothly into horns, and none of the scales looked frayed or disorderly. The way he was built was almost systematic, each scale or horn exactly where it belonged.

"Sort of... pretty," she muttered. A moment later her words registered within Nalene and she blinked, pulling away from the sleeping dragon with a frown. He wasn't some finely crafted statue to marvel at, she inwardly scolded, he was a killer. Besides, she silently retorted, pretty was hardly the word for him. She'd already called him impressive, but what other word described him better? A second later her lips pursed. Evil was apt as well.

Then, to her horror, Smaug moved. It was only a faint movement, and for a split second Nalene thought maybe it was nothing, but she was not that lucky. His nose twitched, and with an ominous exhale, Smaug's eyes snapped open. He shifted, gold cascading down with the faint clink's around him, and his eyes found hers.

"What are you doing?"

Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Valar kill strike her down if he'd been awake to hear her call him pretty. She wanted to run away and pretend he'd never woken, pretend she hadn't been curious about him, but Smaug was waiting, and there was nowhere to hide. She did her best to compose herself. He didn't look angered, at least, but there was an underlying wariness in his demeanor.

"Nothing." Her previous boldness was gone, and she began fiddling with the edges of her bandages while she tried avoiding his eyes. It was impossible though, they were nearly half her size in diameter, and they followed each of her movements with a hawk-like watchfulness. His attention unnerved and annoyed her; one minute it seems he's forgotten her and the next she can't escape his study.

"Nothing?" Disbelief mingled with scorn in his tone, but she said nothing in reply. He eyed her in muted contemplation before he snorted, huffing a cloud of smoke into her face. "Don't waste our time with your lies. You clearly have something to say, so say it."

She didn't.

"Ask me," he coaxed. "The hardest part is over. I'm awake, that's what you wanted, isn't it? And now I'm curious. What lured the mouse to the dragon? Should I call you that: mouse? I did find you in a field. Speak up, field mouse, before I fall asleep."

She struggled within herself. Despite his mockery, there was an undeniable reason to his words. There was no reason aside cowardice to not say what she'd come to now.

"I am in a dilemma," she admitted, and a glint appeared in his eyes.

"Go on."

"It's been a few days since you...brought me here...and even longer since I've eaten..."

"You try so hard not to offend me. Were you taught to always retain your polite manners? I never use them, never had any, never needed to. You flatter me with your 'O Smaug the Magificent's,' and your talent for skirting around the topic. Do you think this will save you?" He smiled, a malicious display of teeth that negated whatever benign amusement he felt. "Did I never tell you? I have no intention of killing you."

"You don't?"

"I don't think so," he mused.

She wrung her hands, surprised by the turn in the conversation. "_Think _is still a very tentative term. Will you forgive me if I wait for a more definite answer?"

"Yes," he said wryly. "I imagine I could forgive you."

"That is... good to hear... but as I was saying, it has been many days since I've eaten and there is no food here..."

There was a pause before he spoke. "Are you saying you're hungry?"

His phrasing made Nalene hesitant as well. "Yes?"

"It hasn't been a week," he objected.

Nalene blinked, bewildered by his apparent confusion. A week was plenty long- but then Nalene remembered. _He didn't seem like the type to be ruled by basic needs like sleep or hunger. _Sure, he slept, but when was the last time he'd eaten? More than a week ago.

"So you didn't know?" So he didn't know she was starving in front of he?

"Know what?"

She backtracked quickly, composing herself. "Nothing, I was just- nothing." But as she spoke, she found herself inspecting him, looking for something she hadn't seen before. She'd been fuming and worrying over what she would do if her captor intended to let her starve- fuming because how dare he, how dare anyone, why did this have to happen to her, worrying, because even she knew starvation was a painful way to die. And now she learn was learning that he might not plan to let her die at all, that she'd be wrong.

But even as she felt relief washing over her, she refused to feel grateful. She wouldn't be without food in the first place if it weren't for him.

"So you'll get me something to eat?"

He propped his head against the gold as he assessed her. What was he looking for, she wanted to know. "It doesn't take you long to return to your royal roots. Audacious enough to suggest that _I_ serve _you_," he said snidely, but his harsh words were accompanied by a layer of amusement. "I think I preferred you when you were too timid to form complete sentences. "

"No, I wasn't-"

Her cut her off, eyes scanning her skeptically. "Are you really so helpless?"

"I don't..."

"Don't understand," he finished. "Yes, I'm not surprised."

His condescending tone was not appreciated, but she was beginning to suspect he always sounded that way.

"So you need my help?" If not for the constant growl in his voice he might have sounded pleased.

As he spoke it resonated within her that she _was _helpless. She was relying on him to keep her fed and it was an appalling prospect. Nalene had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything she would regret. He was enjoying this, she thought, but she masked this bitterness as she nodded to him.

A low grumble came from his throat as he stared at her unblinkingly. Nalene stared back, taking in the collage of colors in his eyes. Amber, bronze, copper, _gold. _Mesmerizing.

Suddenly remembering herself, Nalene jerked back, puzzled. It was like staring at the sun, she thought as she rubbed her eyes to avoid Smaug who was still watching her. Worried about what expression she'd worn in her moment of... distraction... she schooled her features into a more fitting petulance.

"So you'll help me?" She prompted, disliking the intensity of his stare. What was he looking at? Seconds ticked by, and she grew increasingly uneasy. Was he doing it to annoy her? Scare her?

"I will," he agreed, and then his eyes closed.

It was clearly a dismissal, but Nalene had gone this far and her stomach was still growling.

"Excuse me," she said, breaking the silence. When one tawny eye peeled open she cleared her throat, praying he'd keep his word and not flippantly kill her. "I would, um... well I'm hungry _now. _I was hoping you would get my food now." The eye narrowed, and she quickly amended, "or soon?"

Now his other eye popped open, and she had his full attention.

He thinks you're a princess, she reminded herself. Act like one.

"I've never gone this long without food. Maybe you can, but I can't." He continued to stare at her, and Nalene wished he'd say something. She would prefer his mocking to this unreadable silence. She tucked her hands behind her back to hid their shaking. "When I alerted you to my hunger I was expecting you to help me, um... right away."

He finally spoke, his voice laced with steel as he challenged, "Is that a command, little princess?"

She gulped. Had she been too assertive, too princess-like? Behind her back her fingers dug into the the material of he dress, making her cuts sting. "A suggestion," she whispered. She stared at her feet, waiting for him to erupt in anger when she heard him hiss, "_fine," _accompanied by the sounds of him moving.

Confused, Nalene forced herself to look up and was just in time to see Smaug rising to his full height, Nalene craning her neck to see treasure cascading over his bulking sides as he emerged from the gold he'd been half buried in. When the last of the treasure finally hit the floor, and it was quiet again, Smaug shocked her by laughing.

It was half a growl, half a snort, and it sounded like a rock slide doused in chuckles. Nalene was bewildered. Of all his reactions, she had not expected laughter, and she suspected her eyes were nearly as wide as his as she stared. He was clearly mad, Nalene found herself thinking, not seeing another explanation for his erratic behavior. The years of solitude and cruelty had driven him insane.

"A suggestion," he mimicked as he peered down at her with renewed interest, and Nalene was dimly wondering if she would prefer him angry. "So you suggest I go find you some food, is that it?" He snorted again, apparently infinity entertained by this. "And have you even thought about where I'll get you food?"

He found his answer in her dazed expression. She hadn't given it any thought at all. In retrospect, maybe she should have.

"Our definitions of food are a little different," he warned her, something sinister in his tone. "Don't look too worried, _little mouse. _I can get your food. I could. Do you want to see? I've seen you talking to yourself- I've heard you. You humans are susceptible to solitude, always falling ill from something, driving you insane."

"As insane as you," she shocked herself by saying, even as she struggled to comprehend him. Smaug sneered, puling his teeth on display as his neck slithered around her. There was a wing to her left, a claw to her right, and hot air was puffing down at her. She was trapped, enclosed in a cage of red scales.

"Oh I'm completely sane. Only one thing turns dragon's insane," he said darkly, weaving around her as he gazed at the glittering ground beneath them both. "And it isn't loneliness." In a flurry of motion, waves of scales were suddenly whipping past her as Smaug unwound and shot in front of her, Nalene nearly giving herself whiplash as she tried following his movements. Finally, he stilled, and Nalene could focus in on him, was close enough to reach out and touch him. Then Smaug was gone, and right in front of her eyes the space he'd previously occupied became empty of scales, claws, and wings.

Without a massive dragon filling in the chamber's halls it's size was magnified, it's depth overwhelming, and it was suddenly very quiet, very empty.

She was frozen, all her blood simultaneously feeling as though it was rushing towards and away from her face. Then she was blinking, and she it occurred to her that if this was a story or play she would be fainting. Only this was real, and Nalene stayed firmly on two feet.

It was him, still somehow managing to tower over her in a mountain of muscle and arrogance. How he managed it she'd never understand, but even reduced to these six or seven feet he radiated the same strength he had moments before; he was a smaller Smaug, condensed into a human form, but it was utterly him. The dark skin he wore was clearly his red and gold scales, a hue rarely seen this far north, and the teeth revealed by his grin were not the meter long spears from before but they encouraged the same uneasiness from her.

He'd somehow made himself a person, and he was gorgeous.

"Surprised?" He was shaking out his shoulders and experimentally making his hands into fists, watching the tendons flex and then disappear.

"You..." she was at a loss.

"Me," he crooned, pleased with himself.

"But- you-"

"Yes, me."

"No-"

"Yes. " he was growing impatient.

_Now _Nalene felt like she could faint, she couldn't find her breath, and her hand had found it's way to her chest, her heart pounding beneath it. "But- I don't- you can't..."

"No, you don't, but I can. Now will you-"

"No no _no! _You can't just-" she gestured frantically towards him, feeling so many things at once but too speechless to communicate them.

"Enough!" He caught her flailing hands, his face bizarrely human and bizarrely, blatantly frustrated. "Enough," he repeated, giving her hands a jarring shake. "You're being ridiculous and ungrateful-"

"Ungrateful," Nalene screeched, growing more and more hysterical the longer she saw this too new, too human Smaug. "Why should I be grateful? You can't just- it's not possible- ungrateful!"

"Yes," Smaug's grip was squashing her bones together, but he didn't even seem to notice her attempts at tugging her hands away except to tighten his grip further. "You think it's easy to do this? Anyone can force themselves into a smaller, pathetic body for any flippant reason? You think I want to be like this?" He released her hands with an enraged huff, and his chest heaving as he stepped back.

"I don't understand," she tried, "you're a dragon."

"Of course I am," he sneered, witheringly. "But I can't very well fetch your food for you as one can I?"

Nalene opened her mouth to speak, then paused, the words lost. It was just so hard to focus. His expressions were so... so human now. Before it'd been like conversing with a fire-breathing statue, but now he was bewilderingly familiar, personable.

"You're gaping." He snapped, pulling her from her thoughts with a glare.

"But... how can you...?"

"How articulate." He waved off her question. "You wouldn't understand." Nalene narrowed her eyes, and was considering arguing when he spoke again. "Besides, I don't have time to explain to you, I thought you were hungry?" He arched a brow.

In the excitement of it all Nalene had forgotten, but now that she remembered the ache in her stomach came back full swing, and she realized how tired she was. Their conversation ended after that, Smaug ignoring her in preference for returning to his natural state. Nalene assumed it was faster to travel with wings, but minutes after Smaug left it occurred to Nalene that she had just let Smaug loose on some poor village or town... or something. Not that she could have stopped him, but she was the one who needed food, so wasn't it partially her fault? She didn't know where he was getting her food, but there would be people there. People like those in Dale, like the dwarves from here. Nobody deserved a visit from him.

But even so, she found she didn't regret seeing him go, the allure of finally having a meal was too appealing. A small part of her was horrified- didn't she care that Smaug was out there, possibly terrifying villagers again, but most of her was hungry, and was glad to be free of him for at least a little while.


	7. Chapter 7

**Authors note: First off, thanks for all the reviews and/or follows and favorites! Every time I see those little notifications it just makes my day (and reminds me to get my ass to work writing this story) Anyway, sorry for the wait on this one my life got a little busy for a while there. I apologize for any grammar mistakes you might find, I rushed to get this one in so you wouldn't have to wait much longer.**

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><p>Chapter Seven:<p>

Smaug began to sit in on her meals.

The first few times he brought her food he simply dropped it off and left, leaving her to eat whatever he fetched in peace. She would climb her way to the walkways overhead or rest against her usual column and make the best of what he brought her. It was never anything remotely level with the food she feasted on before, but it was still an improvement from starving. Recently, however, Smaug had been sticking around for her meals, occasionally sharing a snide comment about the inferiority of humans, or the superiority of one particular dragon.

She accepted the company. Nalene didn't want to risk angering him over something so trivial, and it was almost nice to be around another living person, even if it was Smaug. Maybe he could go an eternity living in solitude unaffected but Nalene couldn't- already she'd caught herself talking to the profiles of long dead kings on the sides of the coins.

Smaug usually heard her of course, with his noisy and inescapable hearing, and never failed to taunt her with the knowledge the next time he saw her.

Today as she ate he was sitting across from her just watching. He never joined in on the eating, and she wasn't sure if he couldn't or if he simply preferred his food a little bloodier and little more alive. Eitherway, his staring was the epitome of impolite. If her governess was her she would pull at his ear and tell him to him to mind his manners.

A half-laugh escaped her and she quickly moved to cover it with a cough, pulling her hand up to cover the smile that the scenario brought to her face. As if anyone would have the audacity to tell Smaug he lacked common, decent manners, even if she thought it all the time.

Smaug heard her little outburst and regarded her with a deceptively benign expression- as though he wouldn't crush a puppy between his claws right then and there for looking at him wrong- and Nalene knew it threatened bad things.

She cleared her throat, avoiding his gaze until she schooled her expression.

As expected, when he spoke up his voice soft but lined with steel. "Something wrong?"

"No, no- I was just, uh..."

"Laughing at me," he finished flatly.

Alarm spiked through Nalene. Her thoughts echoed a horrified _oh no-_ and her entire form tensed as she waited for his composure to explode into a burst of rage. How could she have forgotten how good his hearing was, how careless could she be? Smaug was no giggling matter. There was a dead silence that stretched between them. Merely the calm before the storm, Nalene was sure.

Then his measured glare broke and Nalene watched with incredulous eyes as he laughed. It was a deep, mocking laugh, and while she didn't understand why he was laughing she knew he it was directed at her. It didn't sound outright malicious though, and for that Nalene was confused. What followed was even worse. When he finished he met her gaze and _rolled his eyes._

Completely astonished, Nalene gaped at him, her food forgotten as she stared bewildered at Smaug.

Then he did it again, his chest rumbling as though she'd told a joke. "Your fear is flattering," he said, lightly tapping his nose. "But I already told you I'm not going to kill you, not over something as innocuous as a giggle."

At his borderline- pleasant dismissal of what she was certain he would consider disrespectful Nalene thought back to the first few days. He'd snap into an offended rage at imagined slights, but now he was finding them humorous?

"You are in, um, good mood..." she ventured cautiously, eyeing him with pinched eyebrows.

"Am I?" He picked up a piece of her bread with two fingers, giving it a disinterested once-over before he dropped it and his eyes returned to hers, pinning her with their sudden intensity. Nalene suddenly got the feeling she was being studied very closely. "I suppose I am." He shrugged, not looking away from her. For some reason he was pretending none of this mattered, but Nalene could tell it was a pretense. Smaug still stared at her with that calculating, contemplative look, the type that meant trouble was brewing, and Nalene wouldn't be fooled by his indifferent act.

Was his good mood sincere then, and was he simply troubled by it? It could be possible, Nalene supposed. She couldn't imagine Smaug was regularly happy- maybe regularly… satisfied? Satisfied seemed like a good word for it. Satisfied with his plundering, his killing, and his overall conceit and avarice. Nalene forced herself to continue eating, mimicking his indifferent attitude. Inwardly, however, her mind was furiously hunting for an explanation. She did not want to be caught off guard the next time he exploded, or the next time this moment here somehow came back to bite her. Was he only pretending to be in a good mood? Had that laughter been forced, and was he secretly scheming something horrible behind that mask of blandness?

When she looked up again he was still studying her with a worrying focus. Was it good? Was it bad? People were hard enough to understand, but a dragon was all but impossible to understand.

"Talk to me."

The command came out of nowhere, and Nalene nearly choked on her meal in her surprise.

"Excuse me?"

He gave her another look, this one more irritated than piercing, and he lay back across the gold coins as if he was laying on the finest mattress, and not a bed of coins with the edges of his treasure digging into his back. He turned away from her and looked instead towards the ceiling, though Nalene didn't see why. There was nothing up there, the ceiling was so high up most of the times she could hardly see it, but it _was_ a nice respite after dealing with his constant staring.

"Talk. Conversation. You humans are always chittering and yapping."

"Well I suppose so," she wrinkled her nose, not seeing what he was getting at. "Do you want me to talk to you?"

That was evidently the wrong thing to say as his head snapped towards her, his face tight and eyes glinting with accusation. "No," he snapped. "It was an order. You're hardly worth anything if you've been driven mad- and you wouldn't have any appeal then, even if it'd make you more interesting. Now talk."

His cruel stare was just challenging her to dare and argue, but even if she was confused and faintly offended- she was plenty interesting while sane, thank you very much- it would be easier to simply go along with his whims.

"Um…" Of course when ordered to talk she couldn't think of anything! She always did her best to avoid stressful situations like this. She never did do well with her tutors because of it. "...this dress was a gift from my father," she tried, giving a sad sniffle at the memories it pulled to mind. "An early birthday gift," she added, not wanting to give Smaug the impression she'd only received one present. That would have been tragic. "We'd go for walks, when it was sunny, not too cold. He surprised me with this dress on one of them." She pouted, looking at what the once beautiful dress had become. "It's ruined now… Some birthday that turned out to be. Kidnapped. _Twice._ But I did get my necklace that day." One hand reached for the infamous jewelry. How proud she'd once felt to wear it, and now it just hung from her neck, put to shame by the rest of Smaug's treasure. "Everyone was very impressed it had been a princess'."

Although Smaug was only teasing when he turned towards her, a brow perfectly perched in question, his next words were a slap to the face. "Had been? You're a princess, aren't you?"

It resonated inside her mind, the simple question that could ruin everything. _You are a princess, aren't you?_ She mentally berated herself for forgetting herself. Of course Smaug would know this. He was the only one who'd recognized it that day in the field when he'd called her a descendant of some Adamercil or whatever it had been.

Nalene was still fumbling with how to answer when- praise the Valar- Smaug turned away from her. "I am the King Under the Mountain," he announced. "Fitting at least that I am in somewhat worthy company."

The dragon and the merchant's daughter. Nalene wasn't sure if she cared that he had a more legitimate claim to royalty than her. It certainly would have pleased him to learn he was superior in that way, if the arrogant dragon ever learned of it. And...somewhat worthy? Hidden anger hummed beneath her skin- she was more than worthy to be in his company! "I think our experiences with royalty have been very different," she managed- especially since her's were unfortunately nonexistent.

His profile exposed none of this thoughts, and the only hint she had towards the inner workings of his mind was the way his fingers drummed against his chest, and even that told her little. When he made no move to say anything, Nalene floundered, and quickly gave up on keeping the conversation alive, letting the two of them fall into an uneasy silence.

Nalene fell into memories of her birthday. That day she had looked the best she ever had- her glimmering jewels, her smooth satin dress gliding down her legs, her hair shining, and her face adorned with a smile only a girl who had everything she wanted could afford to wear. People had cooed, ooh'd, and aww'd as she'd floated past them that night. Once she was gone they of course whispered snide, jealous things, but that hardly mattered. She had been above them all. She still was, in a way. After all, they were all dead and she was the one still alive.

That party had been the biggest event Dale had seen in years, maybe even decades, the epitome of Dale's glory, and with her the centerpiece of it all. And then the city had burned, and now nobody could see past the ash and rubble to know what Dale was really worth. The memory of Dale was her's alone and sometimes it made her furious, and she would sit there in her ruin of a dress- ruin of a life more like- hating Smaug for it.

The majority of the time, she would admit, she didn't hate him. She knew she should, but it was hard, especially when he wore a second body that didn't resemble the monstrosity she'd seen circling the skies over a smoking Dale. Because mean spirited or not, he was all she had- even though if she ever said that Smaug would correct her by saying he had her, and that nobody could ever have him, not in any manner.

At one point his fingers stilled, and he turned his head to face her again. "Are you going to continue or not? Because otherwise I have things to do beside tend to your sanity."

Tend to her sanity? It wouldn't need tending if not for him. Anger coiled in her stomach, and in a fit of daring she pursed her lips and said nothing.

The seconds ticked by and his expression darkened, and she could clearly hear him mutter, "useless," beneath his breath.

Not wanting to push him too far she broke her silence, even if her tone carried over a sliver of bitterness. "Conversation is not this structured," she defended, "it usually has a natural progression. You can't just force it, Smaug."

"No?"

Nalene missed the way his voice cooled dangerously, a sign that normally would have warned her to tread carefully. Instead she plowed on, oblivious to the waters she was treading in. "No. It's a measure of teamwork. If you want to talk both sides need to put in an effort. That's how it's done."

Smaug was suddenly on his feet. Nalene followed the motion with concern, trailing her way up his unfamiliar human body till she found his face. It took quite a while to get there, all the while Nalene wondering if he purposely created the body to be so tall, but when she did reach his face, she was shaken by what she found. His face was twisted into something that was purely draconic in nature, some degree of wrath that wasn't properly translating into his human guise.

It would have terrified her if hadn't just earlier reassured her that he would not kill her. That being said, it only moderately alarmed her.

"Do not presume to lecture _me_," he snarled. "I am King Under the Mountain- I will do as I please. I am in control here- do not forget who I am, even if I wear this pathetic body. Which is done for _your_ benefit, you ungrateful, troublesome girl!"

She must not have been suitably scared, or perhaps he was overtaken by his anger because he suddenly grabbed her arm and yanked her against him. At the force of the movement her head bounced against his chest, and she was only just managing to steady herself without grabbing him for balance.

"You!" He accused, looming over her like a hammer on the precipice of crushing her. Her chest fluttered in fear, and she could only squeak in response. Then his hands dug into her forearms painfully, causing her to whimper. Immediately, something similar to disgust flashed over his features and he pushed her away. She just barely kept her balance as she stumbled back. When she recovered she caught the sight of him- chest heaving as he glowered down at her, hands curling and uncurling from fists.

Nalene shrunk back from him, no longer reassured by his earlier promise not to kill her. This was the Smaug she was familiar with. Volatile and dangerous.

He let out a harsh breath, and Nalene could all but see the smoke. After a few more seconds of measured breaths he appeared to calm down, the anger in his veins diluting to a more stable level.

"This is not going as expected," he hissed, but after the flurry of his rage it sounded like an admission, an uncharacteristic show of doubt. "I did not bring you hear thinking you would be so much trouble. You have disrupted everything- I did not consider the dangers-" He stopped himself, shaking his head.

Nalene watched meekly as he struggled with himself. He seemed to figure out what he wanted because he stormed off, only turning around to bellow, "Do not dare wake me up!" before going in search of what she presumed was a nap.

For a while she stared in the direction he had left in trying to make sense of what had happened, and more importantly, what it meant for her.


	8. Chapter 8

**authors note: this one is a little shorter than the last and not quite as long as I'd like. Please review and let me know what you think!**

Without Smaug to keep her company or amuse her with his foreign, draconian idiosyncrasies, Nalene was bored.

Nalene began organizing the jewels, pushing the rubies one way, the silver that way, the emeralds this way, and all cups, goblets, or anything vaguely reminiscent of a liquid container another way. The plates were stacked by size, the stacks organized from most to least favorite, and the gold coins she laid out in rows from biggest to smallest. Every now and then she'd find a ring, and if she liked it enough she'd toss off the one she was currently wearing and fit the new one onto the open rings she especially was drawn too. When she wore the rings they pulled all the attention away her bandages that she hated to look at- they were all bloodied and stained and made her face scrunch up in disgust.

Sometimes when she found a particularly beautiful trinket or bauble she understood- just for a second- the appeal treasure held to Smaug. Then she'd remember that Smaug was insane, and the sentiment was lost until she found another beautiful jewel.

At the moment she wore seven rings, but one of them was a little too big for her finger, and she contemplated finding a replacement for it. Nalene wiggled her fingers with a hum, her eyes tracing over the sharp edges and cold glint of gems and gold. A frown graced her face as she raised her hand towards her face, inspecting her middle finger's ornament.

It was boring. A simple gold band with a shaped sapphire. It didn't match the others at all. Unimpressed and not sure why she'd picked it up hours before, Nalene pulled it off and tossed it over her shoulder, enjoying the far off _clink _of it bouncing off the rest of the treasure.

Unconsciously, her gaze shifted towards Smaug. Only the top ridges of his spine crested through the mounds of gold he'd burrowed into. _Still asleep, then, _Nalene thought, lips pursing.

She turned away, jaw tightening as she dismissed the concern that had begun to seep through her. Who cared what Smaug did. She needed a new ring.

Her hunt for a worthy replacement lasted what must have been hours. The mounds of gold were plentiful, obviously, and sometimes Nalene would come across some bizarre trinket that she simply could not figure out- did it have a purpose, what had it's creator been thinking?- and the majority of the treasure she pushed out of the way. So much of it was generic, common-placed in the sea of riches.

Every now and then something would catch her eye, a particularly detailed scepter, a huge gem, and those she would add to her budding collection. Once she even stumbled across what she suspected had been the top of the old throne.

But rings, those were what Nalene was most interested in. Sure, none of the rings she came across were _ugly _or of poor craft, but very few were enchanting enough to be deemed worthy. Her father had worn rings, sometimes three- four on especially important days when he needed to impress- and Nalene remembered them all fairly well- they'd been family heirlooms, after all.

But family heirloom or not, the memory of her father's rings was dwarfed by what lay before her now. Even her necklace's appeal had dulled. Her hand came to rest against her collarbone, feeling the smooth metal resting there and curling into a fist around it.

A sort of eye-twitching anger pulled her eyes back towards her right where Smaug rested. It was his fault. She could have lived the rest of her life in Dale thinking her necklace her finest possession, cherishing it forever. But it's meaning had been tainted now- now it wasn't her father's loving gift, it was Smaug's fake heirloom. Again Nalene suddenly wanted to tear it off, throw it at Smaug maybe, but the logical portion of her mind told her not to.

She was half-certain the thing was cursed. It killed one princess all those years ago, nearly killed her, and then decided to save her, tossing her into this slowly developing balance of life and death. Nalene's faith in Smaug's word was wavering at best. She didn't doubt that if he became angry enough he would forget his promise, and it wouldn't be until he had cooled down, and her body was pile of ashes, that he'd recall that he wasn't supposed to kill her.

Hopefully the appeal of possessing a princess would prevent that from happening. Or maybe he'd suddenly grow a conscious.

Still... she looked down, scratching at her nuckles, eyes flickering pensively towards the dragon every few seconds. He'd assured her of it twice now, and even when she'd made him mad the worst he'd done was grab her arms...

He made no sense at all.

She remembered him curling around her like a wall of scales and saying that nothing drove dragons mad but gold. Well Smaug had enough gold to drown in, so that was hardly reassuring. He probably was crazy. Just when he started to appear stable- BAM! He did something that very clearly convinced her he was the farthest from stable or safe or nice. Maybe when he slept he seemed peaceful, but when he was awake the man- the dragon- his anger was unpredictable. How else could she explain his mood swings and apparent paranoia.

Her mind drifted back towards the other day, when he'd blown up on her, yelling about some 'unexpected dangers' or something. She still hadn't made sense of that, but this didn't exactly surprise her.

But sometimes he was nice- nicer, at least. Sometimes when he brought her food he would drop the satchel or barrel or whatever it happened to be that time right in front of her, making her yelp and jump from her skin. Then he'd laugh, sauntering off to return to his sleep. At first it'd been annoying, and knowing how quiety he could sneak up on her made her paranoid and uneasy, always looking over her shoulder and making sure he wasn't lurking nearby. As time went by that changed, and it surprised them both. Maybe a week in, she stared adjusting, and instead of scowling or eyeing him suspiciously, one day she laughed back. It'd just been some variation of a smile and an amused huff, but it'd stopped Smaug in his tracks. He'd blinked at her, taken aback, and at his expression her laughter had died quickly, afraid he'd take her giggle as an offense. But then he'd returned the smile with something uncharacteristically _not_-malicious.

Or there was the time he'd startled her one day. She'd been eating the remnants of the day before's dinner, and out of nowhere his giant head had slammed into the ground beside her, making her shriek and drop her food. Right when she'd intended to glare and scoot away spoke. _"I think my field mouse comparison was more apt that I originally realized. When you eat you appear strikingly similar, small and," _his eyes had narrowed in thought, and he'd hesitated for a moment before finishing, _"...fragile." _

Nalene was quite certain that fragile equated with weak and unworthy in Smaug's book, but the way he said it wasn't as scathing as it ought to have been. In fact she'd been considering it a compliment- or at least a non-derogatory statement- when he'd ruined it by telling her that her hair was also similar to a mouse's.

She'd been horrified, and suddenly mouse did not seem kind at all. _Mouse__ hair? _She'd thought, _h__er hair? Like a mouse's? _

Mouse hair. Nalene shuddered just thinking about it. It was a healthy brown. Hardly resembling a rat or mouse. Just remembering it gave her the compulsion to reach up and double check that her hair was not, in fact, mouse-like. She combed fingers through the the messy mane, double-checking the coloring.

Had anyone in Dale told her that she might have slapped them. She'd of slapped them if they were unimportant enough, like a spiteful servant. If it'd been a man she'd have stomped his toes and kicked his shins during a dace, and if it'd been a girl- Valar pray for that girl- Nalen would have done her best to make the brave girl miserable until her outrage died out. Which admittedly wouldn't take long- one insult wouldn't keep her from believing in her beauty for too long.

But that had been then, and this was now. Smaug was no petty girl or rude man, and under no circumstances would she ever slap him. In fact, if Nalene remembered right, she'd been closer to tears than violence. How odd. She must have been very tired.

Still, even taking all this into consideration, Nalene wouldn't mind too much- that is, she wouldn't be that upset- if Smaug woke up soon. And to her unease, she couldn't even pretend this was because she needed someting from him. She had plenty of food, water...Nalene hadn't realized it as it happened, but the only way to reason it all out is that she must have been talking to Smaug more than she'd thought, or at the minimum, _interacting _with him, constantly. Things felt very peculiar without him lurking nearby.

* * *

><p>If Nalene had to guess the time- and she did, because she hadn't thought to keep track of it and dragons had obscured senses of time, but the only dragon around also happened be asleep and could not offer her the date and time- Nalene would estimate Dale had burned about two or three weeks ago.<p>

On one hand, this meant little. She had nowhere to go and nothing to do. On the other hand, it meant quite a lot. Nalene had survived for three weeks after the attack on Erebor and Dale, something very few could say. _Maybe if she could manage three she could manage more, _she thought, and it gave her hope.

She was perched on her usual walkway, high enough above the floor that the heat emanating off Smaug was diminished just slightly. She leaned against a wall and idly picked at her hands. The once off-white bandages were now a collage of putrid yellows, browns and reds. They looked disgusting enough that up till this point Nalene had done her best to simply ignore them. But Nalene was bored and alone, so a morbid sort of curiosity had her eyeing the bandages with a new interest. The cuts only really hurt when she wasn't careful with her hands- then she'd feel a slightly exaggerated pulse in her palms and a cruel sting. It was irritating and uncomfortable, and if she was at home she'd have shown her father and demanded a doctor, but since she was here, not at home, the majority of her concern for the cuts on her hands was overshadowed by the lingering threat of Smaug's moods.

Untying the knots in the bandage were a hassle, and Nalene's face screwed in a determined grimace as she picked away at the stained cloth. Slowly the knot came undone, and she began peeling back the bandage, pulling up bits of healing skin with it. She had it halfway off before she gagged and had to stop.

The sight of red, irritated skin and weird...goo _leaking _from her hands- Nalene shuddered, and quickly recovered the bandage. _Disgusting. _She couldn't wait for her hands to finally heal.

* * *

><p>Nalene had amassed three massive stacks of gold plates, thirty three chained bracelets, seven bejeweled swords, eight acceptable rings, two tiaras, and sixteen strange trinkets that were ostentatious enough to make her smile when it became dead silent in the cavern.<p>

The sound of her own breaths was amplified in the silence as Nalene registered the sudden absence of Smaug's steady, rhythmic breaths.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: wow, longest chapter yet, hope you enjoy it! (I apologize for any grammar mistakes, if you see any let me know and I'll do my best to fix them)**

* * *

><p>Chapter Nine:<p>

The silence was stunning, the weight of it freezing Nalene where she stood. She stood motionless as her mind whirled with the possibilities of what the sudden silence may mean.

Smaug? What was he doing? What had happened?

Something akin to hope tainted with anxiety swept through Nalene, urging her limbs into motion. Slowly, as if moving too fast would shatter her hope, she unfroze from her shock. Unfurling from her daze, Nalene twisted her neck over her shoulder, looking towards where Smaug rested. The sight that greeted her was unchanged from the last time she'd glanced his way. Buried beneath his gold, only the top curve of his spine crested through the treasure, and like an iceberg in the ocean it hinted at something massive lurking beneath.

Seconds ticked by as she stared, each one passing tensely and expectantly as she all but willed the visible spine to move, shift, twitch, to give any hint at motion. Four days he had slept- Nalene was ready for him to wake up, she was ready for their routine to return to normal. But then she blinked and abruptly time no longer passed sluggishly, but at the regular pace. She let out a puff of breath.

_Maybe he wasn't waking up, _she thought, and Nalene unfurled from her twisted position to face Smaug completely. She took a cautious few steps closer, squinting at him and watching for any disturbances in the gold pooled around him. She paused, and in the stillness that followed she tried her hardest to listen, to really listen, and maybe hear him. Holding her own breath, she searched for the faint sound of his, growing increasingly confused. Maybe she had assumed too quickly when she'd noted the absence of his breathing. Maybe her human ears were failing her.

Even after minutes of purely listening, Nalene heard nothing beyond her own breaths and the swish of fabric as she inched across the room towards him. She hesitated feet shy of him when she remembered his furious command to not wake him. If he was already awake, she had nothing to fear by going closer. But if he was still asleep...

Discomforted by the uncertainty of it all Nalene gathered her courage.

"Hello?" She ventured, barely raising her voice above a whisper. "Are you awake?"

Silence answered her.

"Alright then," she mumbled, shoulders slumping in defeat. It made little sense to her, but he must have fallen into an even deeper sleep, one where his breathing steadied and slowed to an inaudible level. Fleetingly, only for a mere moment before she dismissed it, Nalene played with the idea that Smaug had died. For an indiscernible reason, Nalene simply knew this wasn't possible. Smaug was too strong, too stubborn, and too impressed with himself to lethimself die a quiet, anti-climatic, forgettable death in his sleep. He would go out with fire and probably a lot of other people dying alongside of him.

Nalene paused, reconsidering her last thought.

No. Noboby would die _alongside _Smaug. That would imply a sort of shared camaraderie, even just in death, and that Smaug would never do that. If he were ever to die it would be as he lived, with a flourish of drama and terror, and most importantly: alone. Nalene could imagine it clearly. If Smaug was dying, others would undoubtedly also being in the process of dying, but they would be below him burning.

Then Smaug would fall from the sky and crush the survivors.

A story that would recorded in books and told for generations.

This is how Smaug would die, not peacefully in his gold like a cat bathing in the sun. That is why Nalene didn't even waste her time considering any other reason for Smaug's silence. Nalene didn't have to worry about him dying and leaving her alone in the mountain, but there was a tingling uneasiness crawling up her spine for another reason.

Smaug was only falling into deeper sleep, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could afford to let him. Inevitably she would need him- for food, conversation, for _something._

_"Don't you dare wake me!" _The memory hovered clear as day in her mind; his face twisted in anger, shoulders taut and curling, feet furiously stomping away-

There was no point in thinking about tried shaking the discomfort from her skin, but all it did was cause her necklaces to swing, the fine metal chains clinking together every few seconds until they slowed to a quiet halt.

She needed to occupy herself- she would drive herself insane sitting here and mulling over _him. _Organize jewelry? No, she was bored of that, the allure of gold had dimmed for the moment, the draw towards sparking gems and plates so smooth and clean she could see her reflection had faded. Nalene had her fill of treasure now. Smaug would return to his treasure, he would never grow tired of it temptation. A dragon trait, an obsession she could never match. He could probably sleep in his gold for decades, wake up, and not feel as though he'd been robbed years of his life. His treasure _was _his life, she suspected.

Nalene would never be liked that. She couldn't, and regardless, she didn't want to be.

She was _sick _of gold. She remembered the crowds of Dale with their colorful clothing, ranging from rags to wearable art, the exotic languages that could be hear from the merchants- her father and brothers had been fluent in some, passably understandable in many- the food vendors hawking for customers, the children flying kites overhead, rambunctious and always underfoot as they ran underfoot weaving through the streets, Lara, with her easy blush and constant affection for some discussing some young man or another, her servants always agreeable and steady, her guards, especially old Berund, never quite out of sight, always protecting, making her feel safe...

Father had never let her wander into the poor districts, even with her guards. She'd never wanted to anyway, but she remembered them now and regretted not having seen them, a part of her would trade the rings on her fingers for a day in the streets of Dale- even the filthy parts she'd never bothered with. People, even the poor, the smelly, the mean, the old, the ugly- Nalene wanted other people.

A sigh escaped her. Home. She wanted to go home.

A second sigh, this time almost a growl, and she turned towards him. _His fault. __It was all his fault, _she thought bitterly, glaring at the sleeping form. She wanted him to wake up so she could talk so someone- to him.

She wanted him to wake up so she could reach up to his handsome face and slap him so hard he had to spit blood, that his cheek would burn red in the shape of her hand so that even when he shifted into a dragon there would be a lingering ache under his skin.

Nalene's glare faltered, her anger morphing into a uncertain confusion.

Despite it all, everything bad that had happened, her anger had always simmered low, buried under fears. Strangely- or finally- she wasn't afraid.

Nalene was angry.

Killed her father, her brothers, her friends, her guards, her maids-

Destroyed her home, killed thousands, man and dwarf, captured her, terrified her, abandoned her for a nap while she rotted away from loneliness and boredom, ignored her, mistreated her like nobody else had ever dared. Because of him, she was drinking water from a well that had an unmistakable smell of ashes to it, had her sleeping in piles of metal- _still bruising, still uncomfortable, still just horrible in every way- _

It was good that he didn't wake up, because if he did Nalene would have no self control.

She'd slap him. He'd get angry. Furious. Then Valar know what would happen to her.

Nalene tore her gaze from Smaug. _This was good, _she told herself sternly. _She was angry, she couldn't handle him at the moment. She'd burst and then he'd explode. Exploding dragons would not help her._

She still wanted to slap him. Maybe in her dreams- her uneasy dreams taking place on a bed of _metal_- she wouldn't forgive him for making her suffer that- she would dream of slapping him, and maybe when she woke up she would remember and maybe then she'd feel better. More settled. Then it could be simple anger, not this mess of resentment, gratitude, guilt and Valar knows what.

* * *

><p>To her dismay, she did not dream of slapping. She dreamt of Smaug but not of slapping, and that was a disappointment. If she couldn't hit him in reality, she should at least get to slap him in her dreams. In fact, Nalene felt entitled to it. Maybe if she pictured it clearly as she fell asleep the sentiment would bleed into her dreamscape. She hoped so. Nalene considered praying for it, but then she was distracted by the humor of it- before she had never prayed, then in the beginning she started praying for her family, for their happiness, wherever they may or may not be, for good, Valar-approved things... now she was contemplating a prayer for the chance to slap Smaug. How things changed.<p>

It was two days later when Nalene first prayed for Smaug to wake up. It was a direct and tactless prayer. Nalene had never been the most devout, never spared the Valar a thought, they'd been too distant, too intangible and unseen- but nw the only thing that _wasn't _intangible and unseen was Smaug and his treasure. So she sent a few prayers out, doing her best to be respectful as she asked the Valar to please

_-turn back time, change fate, let her go home-_

wake up Smaug.

Polite and sincere- she did her best to be grateful as she sent her request. She knew not all prayers were meant to be answered, knew that she prayed less because of faith in the Valar and more because of her own desperation to do something, anything, to feel productive, to pass the time.

It was a day later when her prayer was answered. She was resting when the gold beneath her began to shift. Nalene almost fell alongside the gold when whole sheets of treasure began to tumble away. Massive shifts in the treasure only meant one thing- Smaug was moving. Feeling a surge of hope, Nalene whipped around just in time to see Smaug rising up from the gold. Except, unlike the last time he'd emerged, he didn't leave the gold completely. His movements were lethargic and short, and when his upper body slammed down onto the surface of the gold a wave of air blasted Nalene's hair back.

Then it was quiet again. Only interrupted by the familiar sound of Smaug's breathing. She hadn't realized how much she wanted to hear the sound till she did, and it was instantly relieving. Fueled by anticipation, Nalene quickly made her way towards Smaug's head. She would be there when he woke up.

She could see his eyes moving beneath his eyelids, and after a few moments of Nalene eagerly watching this his eyelids snapped open- there was no whimsical fluttering of eyelashes or uncertainty with Smaug. It was a silly thing to analyze, the way his eyes moved, but Nalene couldn't help but notice. The monotonous solitude must have been getting to her.

She stared into his eye, and he stared back. She waited for him to speak. Internally she couldn't stop her mind from racing- had sleep improved his mood? Would he feel more inclined to share what he'd been thinking earlier now that he'd gotten his rest- sometimes she wondered if he just liked to sleep or if he actually grew tired and needed sleep like a normal person… not that he was, or ever would be, normal.

Maybe he slept because he was bored. These past few days Nalene had taken plenty of naps. There was just nothing else to do.

He still hadn't spoken.

The silence of it was too much for her. She hadn't waited days for him to wake up for him to stare at her like this. It was always staring.

Impatient for conversation, she spoke for him. Her voice came out a little squeaky from disuse, but she pretended not to notice.

"Hello."

The eye blinked.

_Typical,_ Nalane thought, pursing her lips. Only ever talkative when it suited him. She would try again.

"It's been days."

Even worse. She hadn't meant for it to happen, but it came out sounding like a scolding. Not ready to deal with one of his moods, she made another attempt, this time keeping the intoned accusations at bay. "Do you feel better now?"

Eyes were meant to be the window to the soul, but Nalene had learned this sentiment applied only to small pairs of human eyes. The giant golden eye drilling into her form was neither small nor human, and if it was a window it was a window that'd been boarded up. Whether or not he deemed her question worthy of an answer was a mystery, but based on the way he stared blankly, Nalene felt it safe to assume she had not asked the right question.

"You weren't in a very good mood before…" she tried, fishing for a conversation he'd partake in. Smaug didn't even blink this time, so Nalene took this as more disinterest. In fact, he may have looked even more bored. Nalene steeled her nerves. She had prayed for this, dammit, and she wanted to talk, so she would talk, and dammit, so would he. "You were actually in a horrible mood, if you can remember."

Her eyes widened and flickered away from his. Oh, he wouldn't like it at all, but if anything was going to evoke an emotion from him, it would be this. There was a risk, she admitted to herself, but when it came to dragons there always was one.

She looked back to him, fighting her lips from twitching into a smile- she never had mastered the art of hiding her emotions, and this just might be fun. "I know you're very old by now," Nalene confided in him, "so I understand if you can't remember. It was a few days ago, and I'm sure sleep would only further muddle your mind-"

His eye definitely narrowed. It was hard to miss when the eye was a few feet in diameter.

"-my grandmother grew quite senile in her old age, and she was nowhere near as old as you. Her hearing faded, she rarely ate, she would talk about the strangest things, hardly proper topics, and always jumping between them as they flashed through her mind, and," she paused, partly for suspense, and partly to study the annoyance emitting off Smaug in waves. It looked like it might be working,"...and she took even more naps than you."

He blinked, and she heard rather than saw him huff, the nostrils far at the end of his snout flexing. Then the scales around his mouth began twitching, and Nalene knew.

Success.

She was relishing her victory, silently applauding her wit, when suddenly her thoughts were drowned out by a loud, crunching growl. It was unlike any other noise she'd heard from Smaug. It wasn't a laugh, snort, scoff. It wasn't even like the soft warning growls she'd heard from him before. Then it stopped, and just as Nalene went to ask him, he gave a loud sniff, and growled a second time.

His head heaved up off the ground, and Nalene had to crane her neck to follow the motion as he readjusted himself. That's when she saw it just for a moment as Smaug's neck peeled off the mounds of gold and into the air; a small bare patch on the underside of his breast. It was far darker than the rest of his reddish scales, almost black, but before she could get a better look, it was gone, and Smaug was peering down at her.

"What is _that_?" He demanded.

If Nalene had wanted a reaction this was definitely it. He was displeased. If only Nalene knew what he was talking about. That would make this interaction a little more enjoyable.

"What is what?"

He moved closer, peering down at her with one eye again.

"That," he repeated unhelpfully as he inspected her. Then he sniffed again, regarding her suspiciously. "What have you been doing?"

"Nothing," she defended. Then she crossed her arms.

Smaug's eyes snapped to her arms. For one heavy second Smaug eyed her arm, silently. Then, with a speed Nalene couldn't comprehend, he was suddenly human and grabbing her forearm.

"What-" she squeaked, feeling baffled as Smaug shoved her sleeves up to her elbows and began to stare at her skin with a new intensity. Smaug ignored her outburst and Nalene limply let him pull her hands to his face and study them.

_Oh. _It was only a hunch, but Nalene relaxed. _This was about her cuts._ Warily she followed Smaug's movement, paying special attention to the minute twitches of tension in his facial muscles. After he picked at her bandages his face hardened, and he dropped her hand. As her hand left his whatever little reactions he'd allowed to show on his face vanished, leaving an unreadable expression behind.

He met her gaze, and Nalene pulled her arms back towards her chest, crossing them to protect herself from his stare. Why couldn't he ever do things normally? If he had something to say about her hands he should just say it. Then, as if he'd read her thoughts, his eyes flickered to her hands, he did it so quickly she nearly missed it, but she didn't. When his gaze returned to her eyes, she stared back. He was studying her.

"I am old."

Nalene blinked. That isn't what she'd expected.

"Very old." He added, and the way he looked at her was almost expectant. His gaze was sharp, drilling into her eyes like he was waiting for her to react so he could study her some more. "Very old," he repeated. "Older than most elves, and without a doubt older than any human and their pitiful lifespan."

Nalene wondered if he was intentionally insulting her. He said lots of offensive things, but she'd learned that half the time it was him being blunt, not purposely mean. But that was only half the time.

"But just because I am old," he continued, "does not mean I am senile."

Understanding washed over her. So she _had_ succeeded in getting under his skin- scales- apparently.

"My memory is perfect."

Now that she knew what this was about, she could clearly hear his voice. It wasn't anger she was hearing. It was indignation. She almost smiled, but dared not smile at him when she'd already offended him. A smile would further threaten his sensitive ego.

"I remember everything- I've told you this."

She couldn't help herself. "I'm sorry," she said, unable to hide the soft amusement in her voice, "I must have forgotten."

The freely offered apology was obviously unexpected, and a long silence settled between them.

"You've grown bolder," he suddenly said, and there was a new curiosity in his voice. He relaxed and his gaze switched from suspicion to speculation.

His remark had surprised Nalene, and the teasing smile faded from her face. The realization hit her hard, and suddenly she was trying to blink through her stunned thoughts. He was right, she was bolder. She'd just intentionally provoked a dragon. What had she been thinking._ She was just desperate for someone to talk to_, a part of her defended, but the rest of her was still reeling. When had she decided it was okay to provoke a dragon? Clearly the mountain was getting to her, messing with her mind.

"...have I..." She said it faintly and only because he seemed to want an answer, but she did not meeting his eye. She wasn't ready to face whatever he was thinking.

As she was studying the hairs on her arms and not Smaug, she did not know what thoughts went through his mind as the seconds ticked by as he waited to respond.

"I never spent much time around humans," he told her after a moment.

When he didn't add anything else, she lifted her head to look at him, confused. She felt an explanation was incoming, but the the longer she held his gaze and he remained silent, the clearer it became that he wasn't going to provide one. Maybe he simply didn't want to, or maybe he didn't understand she wanted one. At his explanation Nalene wanted to think that he must not understand the intricacies of non-verbal communication, but based on what he'd already done, the idea would be ridiculous. Maybe Smaug hadn't spent time among humans, but that he was still far from unobservant.

So… he was choosing not to explain his thoughts to her.

Nalene shrugged, and with a bravado she didn't feel said, "I never spent much time around dragons."

He thought this was funny. She knew because he actually smiled. It was nice.

It was also suspicious.

She regarded him from head to toe, trying to find some sort of clue, or something to help her understand. He was as big as she remembered, and no human was actually that tall. Her gaze focused in on his shoulders. The proportions were too seamless to be a mistake, though. _He must do it on purpose, _she found herself thinking. _It had to be a dragon thing._

Nalene was still contemplating this when she felt words forming in her mouth.

"I think I missed you."


End file.
